


Everything to Live For

by royal_blue43



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Homosexuality, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22993138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royal_blue43/pseuds/royal_blue43
Summary: Son Goten and Trunks Brief spent their childhoods surrounded by the extraordinary, living and learning from within their parents' footprints -- with each considering their Saiyan heritage. Now in their twenties, one man grapples with hollowness, while the other chases sunshine despite the inevitable cloudy days.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Chi-Chi/Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Trunks Briefs & Son Goten, Trunks Briefs/Son Goten
Comments: 47
Kudos: 75





	1. Mind Control

The weather was uncharacteristically hot on Mount Paozu, Goten thought. Even the largely unnecessary smidgen of trees his older brother Gohan planted over their childhood home didn't completely repel the sun's onslaught. Yet he felt calm because he was there alone. His family had long moved from this modest dwelling to a larger modern residence closer to the city. The old house had become a retreat location for everyone.  
  
Their new home was paid for from proceeds that his father Goku rightfully earned after a deadly, almost unwinnable battle to save Earth, delivered by Gohan's father-in-law Mr. Satan. A world peace group that didn't know the truth awarded the money to Satan, who took the credit instead of Goku and the prideful Saiyan Prince Vegeta. Those two chose anonymity. Vegeta didn't need the money anyway, being married to one of the wealthiest women on Earth.   
  
Despite her lifetime gripes about money woes, Goten and Gohan's mother Chi Chi was the most reluctant to move when the time came. Goku's true passion -- fighting -- finally delivered the financial stability she always wanted. She also accepted, at last, that her husband would never fully settle into a traditional pastoral life with their family. Goten's personality had less of Chi Chi's conservatism, unlike his brother. But at least Gohan was extremely smart and more self-aware, having been through hell and back as young boy.  
  
Goten, however, felt directionless as an adult -- and as a man.  
  
He tried to ignore his disappointment with himself, though others didn't seem concerned about his lack of focus. No one had high hopes for him anymore, he felt. Perhaps they never really did, though he had extraordinary potential for being a great fighter as a child, following the family tradition. But he also could have been a good farmer because of his love for animals and the soil, and the bounty both delivered for others in need.  
  
He also loved _someone_ but felt he had nothing to offer -- not even a rewarding friendship, which the other person still wanted. His friend had a direction, confidence, superior intelligence, a fiercely close family, a fiery yet empathetic personality, boundless wealth, as well as no shortage of eager romantic interests.   
  
None of that had changed since they were kids. Though both had experienced difficulties and upsets, Goten believed that life would only get better and more interesting on the other side -- a place where he would likely never be considered a true equal.  
  
So his mind and body walked away from it all. Excruciating despair hid behind his laidback, modest smile. The tears he shed on the mountain spoke that truth undeniably. At least no one would be burdened with the embarrassing knowledge of his weakness.  
  
Depression is well-versed in mind control. Its crafty, wicked roots penetrated his soul, telling lies about his self-worth. His hand squeezed tighter on a petite bag crammed with some of the most beautiful flowers the mountain offered -- and also the deadliest.  
  
He smiled wistfully. Now he could free himself from the pain on his own terms. Others had done the same. Why couldn't he? He opened the bag to examine the crushed powder of rainbow-colored florets, dipping a moistened finger inside. He loved his family and friends but felt no guilt. A man -- Saiyan or human -- with no path was a waste of talent. How many times had he heard Vegeta and even his own mother say this? Living this way caused more shame.

Sunlight retreated behind the clouds, as if on cue, while Goten licked his fingers. A honeyed sweetness filled his mouth, leaving bitterness behind. Sapphire spittle dribbled between his lips as a bamboo flute's delicate melody drifted around him. He recalled his grandfather's stories about how spirit guides patiently waited for the dying in their midst, playing gentle music to soothe the mental anguish of good people. His irises clouded after he consumed another poisonous dose. The bag gradually slipped from his hand as a relaxing coolness settled over him.  
  
Before falling unconscious, for the first time in a while, Goten felt at ease. The robe-clad shakuhachi flutist sat down beneath a tree, continuing his song. Even then, the plaintive spirit-being was unsure if his final duty would be carried out, but he knew that higher powers wouldn't prefer a child of the mighty Son Goku to die alone and without comfort.

* * *

  
Vegeta, as was his way, observed quietly until every option for his next course of action was considered on its merit.  
  
"Take a break, son. Get some food. That's an order."  
  
Trunks sat up. He hadn't slept or eaten in almost three days while sitting next to his comatose friend's bedside. He wouldn't leave, even as Goten's family took turns staying day and night at the hospital. Vegeta, who had been roaming in in the mountainous area for another purpose, found Goten foaming at the mouth and having seizures. He knew what poisoning looked like, recalling memories of failed attempts he witnessed on others.  
  
Trunks yawned, pushing his long hair off his shoulders. "I'm OK, dad."  
  
Vegeta's arms crossed. His son's refusal might demand stronger measures. Trunks and Goten still shared a powerful bond despite not seeing each other as often. Vegeta felt the depth of Trunks' devastation, because only they believed Goten had attempted suicide.  
  
Vegeta also tried to keep his anger in check, but this shouldn't have happened. Goten had others to turn to -- including him. Though he wouldn't have coddled the young man by any means, he would have strongly supported him, keeping all matters private.   
  
"I'll be here until Kakarot returns, Trunks. I'm asking you now. That better?"  
  
"All right." Trunks replied. The young man's smile was dim, but Vegeta accepted the response with relief. "I know it's hard for you not to order me around."   
  
Vegeta grunted as Trunks left his chair. "You're only twenty seven. I say I have, oh, another thirty to forty years of making your life awfully miserable."  
  
Moments like this reminded Trunks how far his father had come emotionally. Vegeta didn't always express himself well, but his actions spoke volumes.  
  
"You've been great, dad. I mean, like, through all of this."  
  
"You make it easy," Vegeta said, nodding toward the door. "Now stop loitering. Your mother and sister want to see you. Also -- and I need you to hear me on this, Trunks -- _do not_ blame yourself."  
  
"Yeah." Trunks touched the door. "I guess you're right."  
  
"I am… usually right on subjects such as this. Ask your mother."  
  
Goku appeared across from Vegeta, seeming oblivious to any other presence there. His ashen, grief-stricken look hadn't changed since Goten was admitted to hospital.  
  
"How is Chi Chi?" Trunks asked, ending the uneasy silence between them.  
  
Goku bent over to touch Goten's head, stroking his hair. "I didn’t want to teleport her with me this time, Trunks. She needs to rest for a while -- like you."  
  
"He was just leaving," Vegeta said. "I will stay a while longer."  
  
"You should go too," Goku said as he prepared to meditate. "I should be alone with my son for a spell. I'm sure… you can understand, Vegeta."  
  
Vegeta knew what he meant. He probably would've been more distraught than Goku appeared to be if Trunks were in Goten's condition -- and reacted more tersely without having Bulma there with him.  
  
"I do, Kakarot."  
  
Goku sat on the floor, watching them leave. He couldn't stand to look anymore as Vegeta's hand gripped Trunks' shoulder. He shut his eyes to begin meditation. He hoped telepathy could reach the remnants of his son's weak life force.  
  
_"Listen to me, son. It's dad. You have your whole life to live. We need you."  
  
_Goten's eyelids quivered at the sound of his father's voice. His breathing tube felt like a pipe shoved down his throat. He didn't _want_ to listen anymore.  
  
Then he flat-lined.  
  
"No!" Goku bolted from the floor as an arsenal of medical staff rushed inside. His eyes glowed blue, stopping everyone in their tracks. He touched his son's chest, jolting Goten's body with a less than an eighth of his own power.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Again.  
  
Nothing.  
  
"Not like this, damn it!" Goku's teeth clenched as his chest compressions continued. "I haven't lived my life this way just for me. I wanted to protect you too!"  
  
He hadn't fought infinite battles to have his boy taken from their family like this. Goten _had_ attempted suicide, but Goku was unready to accept it.   
  
"Let me help," a soft-voiced doctor said, knowing that yelling at him to stop would have been disastrous. "We don’t have much time before Goten loses brain function."   
  
She quickly injected epinephrine into Goten's arm, supporting his father's efforts. Fortunately, the electrocardiogram beeped as a tiny white line appeared onscreen.  
  
Goku moved aside, allowing the doctor to continue. Trunks and Vegeta returned, standing beside him.

* * *

**Hello! Thank you for stopping by. Leave a note in the comments if you have questions or just thoughts in general.**


	2. Innocents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap from last chapter: Goten was on the brink of death after a suicide attempt, with the Saiyan men gathered around his bedside.

Goten's family kept vigilant watch after he left hospital, realizing that another suicide attempt was possible in the months following the first. He admitted what happened after his near-death experience. The family had to accept the truth to help.  
  
Gohan and his wife Videl insisted on having Goten live with them. Chi Chi gave them her blessing, while Goku felt ambivalent, but he followed his wife's lead. By now Goten had to understand how much everyone loved him. The worst thing anyone could do was stop their lives because of this unfortunate event.   
  
Both of his boys were sensitive souls, but Goku until now believed that Goten had a lot more rough-and-tumble vigor in him than Gohan ever would. His eldest became hardened as a boy out of sheer life-or-death necessity. But like Trunks, while Goten _learned_ from the hardened -- Piccolo, Vegeta, Gohan, Mr. Popo, Chi Chi, as well as Goku himself -- he was still able to grow up with fewer cares and lots more fun.  
  
Everyone bought into that narrative, but Goten's suicide attempt made a clean break from that pleasant story line.

Trunks kept Goten busy enough when they were kids to chase away the stress he felt at home. Chi Chi had been lonely after so many years of Goku's absence following what everyone thought would be his permanent death. Gohan remained an extremely loving brother, but he struggled as a teenager to define his own identity outside of what others thought they wanted him to be.  
  
"Wanna fly with me to Riverside Junction, Uncle Goten? The current isn't too bad today."  
  
"I guess so." Goten touched the back of his niece's head, bringing her closer. "You're a great motivator, squirt."  
  
Pan bear-hugged him like a professional wrestler. She didn't understand everything he felt during his not-so-good days, but she chose another path for their relationship as others in their family still struggled -- rightfully so -- with confusion and fear over his condition.  
  
She plucked a reed from the field where they stood, sticking it between her teeth. "How you feeling today?"  
  
"I'm OK. Really, I am."  
  
Goten's left leg dragged they walked together -- a neurological aftereffect from the poisoning. He was told the condition would be permanent if no other measures were taken to remedy it. He chose against receiving more treatment, which frustrated and further confused his family.  
  
Pan tied a red bandana around her head, preparing for their flight. "Then why haven't you spent more time with Uncle Trunks? You're still friends, aren't you?"  
  
"Of course we are," Goten said, "but friendships are complicated. Trunks has a busy and full life, especially now that he's working with his parents on different projects. I don't expect him to be my nurse. I… don't want you to either."  
  
"You don't get to choose for me," Pan countered, "or Trunks either -- especially because of how much you're _in love_ with him."  
  
Goten didn't appear surprised by his precocious niece's spot-on opinion. She was plain-spoken and headstrong, like her grandmother and mother.  
  
"Aren't you a tad young to be discussing _anyone's_ love life?" he asked, staring ahead. "You're only thirteen."  
  
Pan held his hand as they launched for the sky. "Uncle Goten, I bet you I'm not the _only_ one who sees what's going on."  
  
Goten squeezed her fist gently. "Clearly, young lady, you must have been snooping on adults who probably shouldn't have been discussing the subject at all."  
  
"Maybe I was," Pan said defiantly, "but don't you think it's better to know than not?"  
  
Pan hadn't snooped recently on anyone, actually. She and Trunks' younger sister Bulla were busy testing their own theories together, without attracting much attention from the adults.  
  
"Share the details, then, and stop fooling around," Goten said. "Who was it?"  
  
"That I can't do," Pan said, shaking her head. "Do you want my ass handed to me?"  
  
"Watch your mouth," Goten warned with a subdued smile. He couldn't be too hard on his niece about cursing, considering his and Trunks' behavior at her age.   
  
Pan looked away. "I just want you to be OK. If Trunks makes you happy --"  
  
"Stop with the lecturing, kid," Goten said. He felt bad enough that Trunks seemed to blame himself for not being a good friend. "Like you, I make my own decisions. Trunks and I have never had that kind of relationship -- and you might want to keep whatever you think you know about us to yourself. That's all I have to say."  
  
Pan landed, seeking another reassuring hug from him. "Just don't make any more decisions that could take you away from us anymore, OK? I love you so much."  
  
"I love you too -- so much! You mind if I ask you something, squirt?"  
  
Pan looked up. "Go for it."  
  
"How come you seem to be handling what happened to me better than everyone else?"  
  
"Because, you know, I get lonely too sometimes, even when Bulla is around. She gets a lot of attention, even when she's not aiming for it. From what I heard about you and Trunks as kids, my friendship with her isn't much different. Even Uncle Vegeta says that."  
  
Goten laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure _'Uncle Vegeta'_ would say that."  
  
"No, no." Pan tugged on his shirt. "He wasn't being mean, though he can sound rough. He said one day at their house that he doesn't want me to live in his daughter's' shadow."  
  
"He did _what_?" Goten dropped Pan's hand. " _Vegeta_? Did explain what he meant?"  
  
"I'm not stupid," Pan said, appearing annoyed. "Yes, I know what he meant. He also said it in front of Bulla. Anyway, I love her a lot, but I'm doing what her dad says."  
  
"Amazing." Goten knew he was treading into uncharted territory -- this was Vegeta after all -- but he wanted to bring their talk full circle. "So do you know why he told you this?"  
  
Pan wanted to answer properly without lying completely. "I guess he was thinking about something else that happened. He didn't say a lot more."

Goten chose not to push harder, recognizing that Pan was protecting Vegeta for some reason, which she didn't have to do. Vegeta wouldn't have spoken like this -- especially to a child -- had he not expected the message to be shared. Pan cared enough to deliver it in her own way, which Goten felt proud of. His brother had fathered a wonderful kid.  
  
Pan moved to see Goten's eyes better. "He can be really nice, you know."  
  
Calling the Saiyan prince man nice was an interesting way to describe him, Goten thought, but he still had tremendous respect for Vegeta.  
  
"Yeah. Vegeta has good intentions with many things he does. He's also the most determined person I've ever met -- maybe even more than your grandfather sometimes. There's much to admire."

* * *

  
Bulma removed her reading glasses, placing them on the nightstand. She kept the lamp dim to avoid disturbing what appeared to be her husband's imminent slumber.

Vegeta turned over, eyeing her. "Your vision is bad enough, though you could have had it corrected a long time ago. Maybe you should go to sleep with me."  
  
"Maybe I just like wearing glasses because they make me look smarter," she replied, yanking his bushy hair. "You really know how to be romantic, caveman."  
  
"So do you, four eyes." Vegeta removed the book from Bulma's hands as she settled into his arms. "You mean being the smartest woman on the planet isn't enough?"  
  
"Maybe the smartest _mortal_ in the universe would satisfy me," she replied, kissing him.  
  
Vegeta yawned. "Maybe, but I doubt it. We're too much alike in that regard."   
  
"We definitely are," Bulma purred, "but at least I'm better looking."  
  
"I suppose."  
  
Bulma yelped and laughed as Vegeta slapped her ass. Then he leaned in for a long, sumptuous kiss. He would never make a big show of it, but he was indeed the happiest he'd ever been in his entire life because of his wife and children. Growing older wasn't so bad either. They would have many more years together.  
  
"I'm really proud of you, babe."  
  
Vegeta put his arm around her. "For what?"  
  
"You've been so wonderful with Trunks and with Goku's family."  
  
"I haven't done much."  
  
"Oh my god!" Bulma raised up. "Who is this man in my bed? Did I just hear him _not_ take any credit for a compliment from his lovely wife?"  
  
"Hn." Vegeta kissed her again before shutting off the lights. "I can be altruistic -- when it serves my interests."  
  
"There you are!" Bulma laughed. "Wow, I started to worry."  
  
"Look, Bulma, to be honest, my thoughts are mixed. Goten has _everything_ to live for. He and our son were inseparable -- and a double pain in the ass for all of us. That's all I could think of when I found him almost... dead in the mountains."  
  
He paused, closing his eyes as Bulma looked on.  
  
"Perhaps you have mixed feelings because you know how depression feels, Vegeta. It's not rational, and you still have a hard time admitting --"  
  
"The language you use to describe how I've felt at times over the years doesn't align with my own. However, I'm not in denial about how it feels to believe life has no meaning -- but I discovered more than enough reasons to carry on, because of our family."  
  
"Against your will," Bulma said, elbowing him.  
  
"Oh hell yes." Vegeta smirked, lifting a pendant of his family's royal crest on Bulma's neck. "You are an honorary Saiyan for winning that war."  
  
"The hell I am!" Bulma said, turning over. "If that's your way of wooing me --"  
  
"Quiet, woman!" Vegeta covered his wife's pouting mouth, proceeding to tickle her.  
  
After having sex, the couple kicked at each other playfully until Bulma fell asleep. Vegeta kept a semi-watchful eye on their surroundings as his thoughts returned to Trunks and Goten, and his son's behavior at the hospital. Until now he hadn't considered the probability that either or both young men were gay. He wasn't known for having the highest emotional intelligence compared with others, but his capacity for love had grown enormously because Bulma and their children gave him a safe space to explore the possibilities.  
  
Love could make or break people, as well as bring out the best in them.  
  
"Bulma, wake up."  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Wake up."  
  
"Really, Vegeta?" Bulma squinted. "Weren't you the one who said I should be sleeping?"  
  
"Yeah. Never mind."  
  
"Holy mother of Kami!" After shoving another pillow under her head, Bulma held his hand. "You know I'm not fond of you holding back on me when we're in bed together. What is it now?"  
  
Vegeta exhaled. "You know how I lived before meeting you. There are many things I still don't understand about how earthlings react or relate in certain situations, even after all of these years, though it doesn't bother me as much anymore."  
  
"Yes." Bulma touched his chest, in part, to feel his heartbeat. It wasn't pounding fast, so her worry lessened. "What's wrong?"

"Do you think the boys were…involved… with each other?"  
  
Bulma stared at him, wondering where this question would go. She couldn't find a way out of their dead-of-night conversation, so…  
  
"Would you be upset if they were?"  
  
"You are his mother and nurtured him differently. Trunks feels more comfortable sharing some thoughts with you. That is understandable."  
  
Bulma turned on the lamp. "No, I don't think Goten and Trunks have ever gone that route. For what it's worth, our son doesn't discuss his love life with me at all these days. He stays busy, even when I tell him to take breaks from working with us. I'm more curious, though, about how this subject crossed your mind."  
  
"Do you think Trunks is drawn to men completely?"  
  
"Vegeta, you are one of the smartest people I know, and you have tried hard to be a great father by opening yourself even more to our son. If your instincts _as_ _a parent_ are speaking to you, then explore them -- and, to answer your question, yes, our son is gay. He told me years ago."  
  
Vegeta's silence left a large aperture that Bulma didn't attempt to fill. She knew him too well. He started this, so now he had to figure out where else to go.  
  
"Hn, well, I'm not _the only one_ who was totally clueless. Kakarot's mind has been empty since before Chi Chi had their first kid. Let's not forget that _I was here_ observing all of the boys when he wasn't, in different ways, during their developmental years -- even when you thought I wasn't paying as much attention at times."  
  
Bulma kissed his cheek. Her prideful husband almost sounded hurt. Vegeta wasn't, which she knew, but the irony wasn't lost on her.  
  
"I wish I were recording this so you could listen to yourself. You almost seem offended that Trunks _didn't_ share this with you."  
  
"I am not." Vegeta's face blushed. "I said that already."  
  
"I will say this. Don't assume Goten is gay, though he could be. I wouldn't be surprised, but I'm not discussing it with his parents or anyone else besides you."  
  
"You just said I should trust my instincts."  
  
Bulma smiled. "So Goten is like a son to you?"  
  
Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Interpret my comments however you see fit. Once you make up your mind about something, it's not like I can change it anyway."  
  
Bulma reached for her slippers on the floor. No sleep would be had for a while, evidently. She had to acknowledge thoughts they both shared but hadn't discussed.  
  
"Vegeta, I have some thoughts about where this conversation may lead, so let me clue you in. If Goten has feelings for our son, the worst thing _anyone_ could do is assume he tried to kill himself _because_ of Trunks. That would further humiliate him. I know it's hard for you to understand since much of your identity is defined by honor --and that there must be appropriate reasons for choosing one's death. Well, put that out of your mind. Goten is very ill, plain and simple."  
  
Bulma considered Vegeta's blind spot to his own self-destructive behavior in the past, but she didn't judge him. He had been severely depressed too, she thought, but he already said he would never define it in that way.  
  
Vegeta followed her into the bathroom, turning on the hot tub. "Trunks already feels guilty enough for not knowing about whatever Goten is going through -- which is absurd -- but what you just told me says some of our thoughts aren't that far apart."  
  
Bulma handed him a brush, which he accepted dutifully. He would repay her for lost sleep by attending to her hair and massaging her feet in the tub.  
  
"You know, Bulla told me what you said to Pan about not following in anyone's shadow. That was meant for Goten too -- am I right?"  
  
"Let's just say I have a lot of experience with that particular lesson -- and leave it there."  
  
"Indeed you do." Bulma's head slowly reclined on Vegeta's chest as the brushing commenced. "You've told me a lot Saiyan culture, but what about same-sex relationships?"  
  
"What about them?"  
  
Bulma splashed a handful water on his chest. "Babe, come on…"  
  
"Fine." Vegeta put the brush down. "As you know, we had many types of lower classes in my culture. Everyone had roles to play. Some had what earthlings would call 'normal' family lives, but all were expected to support our livelihoods as a people. Giving up at least one child for obligatory service to the crown wasn't questioned."  
  
Bulma nodded, recalling other stories he shared. Some tales were secondhand, delivered through his attendants, Nappa and Raditz, when Vegeta reached puberty.  
  
"Those who preferred relations solely with their own gender had limited choices. They weren't encouraged to breed or raise children, or serve militarily, but nonetheless they contributed in other ways, with several earning a great deal of respect. Saiyans from my planet could be brutal, but we didn't kill our innocents indiscriminately."  
  
"Innocents?"  
  
"That's what these Saiyans were called."  
  
"Ugh." Bulma's lips twisted sideways. "It sounds so demeaning. Our son would _cringe_ at being called that."  
  
Vegeta grunted. "So it's better if the innocents were completely disregarded on my world and killed pitilessly because of their natural way of being -- as others did to them on _this_ planet for ages? They still had a purpose."  
  
"Of course not." Bulma slapped his leg gently. "But as you said, their choices were limited by others on your planet _because_ of who they were."  
  
"Well our son doesn't have to worry about that problem, does he?"  
  
"I think you should talk with Trunks."  
  
"About this?" Vegeta shook his head emphatically. "No. As long as he isn't hurting himself or anyone else, as his father, I respect his choice to keep his personal affairs _private_. I also would prefer if you didn't encourage him to come to me -- especially not now."  
  
Bulma frowned. "He's not afraid to tell you, Vegeta, but he also said he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable around him. It's not like we've had endless family dinner-table discussions about sex and sexuality."  
  
"And it's not like Trunks and I _haven't_ discussed sex in the almost thirty years he's been alive!" Vegeta shot back, triggering another inquisitive eyebrow lift from his wife. "Don't expect me to say more."  
  
"All right." Bulma, the consummate diva, snapped her fingers at her grumpy prince. "Then you can _quietly_ rub my feet. I had my toenails polished just for you. Get to work!"  
  
Vegeta snorted, cracking his knuckles. "Be glad I find your feet attractive."  
  



	3. Echoes From the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap from last chapter: Goten tries to find his way back to stability as the Son and Brief families reflect on what happened.

Goten always had been a hard sleeper, though the depression wrecked anything close to a normal sleep schedule. Trunks wasn't, in part, because of the way Vegeta trained him not to be. Bulma said that between the two, their home had at least twenty sets of irritable -- and highly nosy -- eardrums.  
  
Mr. Satan and Trunks shook hands. The sprightly wrestler swiftly took the young man's gym bag, setting it aside in the foyer.  
  
"You don't have to do that, Hercule."  
  
"I don't mind, young fella. I'm glad you finally decided to stick around instead of just dropping Bulla off to spend time with Pan. Anyway, he's in there."  
  
Hercule, whose broad chest puffed out wider, pointed toward double doors inscribed with his initials in gold script.   
  
"Sleeping, I take it?"  
  
"You knew that when you walked in, Trunks. I know how you Saiyans do that, uh, thing."  
  
Trunks laughed. "We're not the only ones to sense ki. You could learn how. It's not too late."  
  
"I'll leave that to the experts," Hercule replied, waving his hand. "I may not measure up to Goku and Vegeta, but this old man still has enough tricks up his sleeve to be useful in other ways."  
  
Trunks patted his back. "I don't doubt that, my friend."  
  
"I'll make a late lunch for you both, kid. Come get it when you're ready."  
  
"Thanks." Trunks took a quick look at his watch. "Will do, though it might be closer to dinnertime when we're done, if I get my way. Videl says Goten is eating well?"  
  
"My darling daughter is a fountain of optimism, but, in my opinion, your buddy could be eating more. That's why I suggested that he stay with me this weekend. Now that I'm retired, I like to cook as much as Bulma's mother Panchy and Chi Chi! Anyhow, stop yakking with me and get in there."  
  
Trunks saluted him, proceeding to the grand living room, which overlooked the sea. Soft natural lighting filled the space as he entered. A balcony door was left ajar, letting in fresh air. Goten was seated in deck chair, wearing dark sunglasses, with a blanket covering his legs. He still appeared to be sound asleep.  
  
_His ki is steady. That's a good sign._

Trunks bent down next to him, studying his appearance. Goten caught his friend's hand before it touched his shoulder.  
  
Trunks smiled. "Nice job, buddy. Practicing?"  
  
Goten stretched, removing his shades. "Keeps me busy."  
  
Trunks moved a chair next to him. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Let me rephrase the question." Trunks ran his fingers through his hair, knowing he had to be patient. "How were you feeling before I got here?"  
  
Goten looked up. "I can't say I'm displeased to see you, Trunks, but I have no desire to be mentally dissected. That's why I haven't spoken with you since I left hospital. It's embarrassing enough that your dad of all people found me almost dead. He and my father are probably on the same page with their judgment that I wasn't _strong enough_ to handle my problems like a true Saiyan."  
  
Trunks could understand why Goten would say this about Vegeta -- however _wrong_ the belief was -- but the part about Goku surprised him.  
  
"What my father thinks about what happened _matters less_ than his relief that you lived. Same with everyone else. Beyond that, I heard you're meditating with Dende and Piccolo."  
  
"And my brother -- when he's not preoccupied with, you know, his life. He has one, remember? I'm not trying to get in his way. Why do you think I'm over here? He and Videl --"  
  
"Are out with my baby sister and Pan." Trunks touched his arm. "Yes, I'm aware -- and your life is just as important too."  
  
"Please, just stop," Goten said, moving away. "If you must know, it's not one of my better days, but I'm dealing with it."  
  
Trunks almost relented until he noticed an empty glass carefully placed behind a plant near Goten's chair. He didn't smell the distinct, one-of-a-kind aroma of alcohol, but he wasn't an idiot. He stood, moving quickly to retrieve the glass. Goten stared ahead.  
  
"What's this?"  
  
"I only had one. Vodka."  
  
"So _that's_ why you were sleeping and wearing those shades." Frustrated, Trunks bit his lips, trying to remain calm. "One drink is _enough_ , especially when you're taking medications to help your condition. _What the fuck, man!_ Don't you want to get better?!"  
  
"Don't yell at me," Goten said quietly. "Your temper --"  
  
"My _anger_ is appropriate for the situation," Trunks said, folding his arms over his chest, appearing very much like his father. "Come on. Get up. We're taking a walk on the beach."   
  
Goten put his shades back on, pulling the blanket closer. "I'm tired. Just let me sleep, man."  
  
"Exactly." Trunks clutched Goten's wrist. "You need to shake this off. Look, I'm sorry I haven't been there for you."  
  
"Touch me like that again and we're fighting," he snapped. "I don't need anyone's pity, Trunks, and don't flatter yourself into thinking that your absence is the reason why I tried to off myself. This isn't some theatrical tragedy, and you aren't my _only_ friend."  
  
Trunks inhaled, letting him go. "No, I'm not your only friend, but I hope you can let more of us in. At least you're talking with me. That means so much to me, and I'm sorry you're not feeling well today. How can I support you?"  
  
Goten looked at his friend's hands. "Just let me work through being down right now. I don't really feel like talking anymore for a while."  
  
Trunks nodded. "That's OK."  
  
"I guess I'm ready to walk."  
  
The two removed their shoes, flying over the balcony. The white sand glimmered as the sea tide lapped at the shore's fringes. Hercule peered out of the kitchen window, keeping an eye on them as he retrieved his phone.  
  
"Uh, hi, honey. It's papa. Just wanted you and my fantastic son-in-law that Trunks and Goten are talking again. I told you coming here would be good for them! I'm going to call Chi Chi too. Yes, my little honeybee, I know. Don't worry. Trunks has it all in control, I think."

* * *

  
Goten and Trunks stopped in front of an above-ground beach cave, recalling their escapades there as teenagers. They had been walking along the shore in silence for a few hours. Trunks stood behind Goten, sporting a toothy grin.  
  
"What's so funny, Trunks?"  
  
"Just thinking about the brawl our fathers had here after we ate the rest of the food Chi Chi packed for us."  
  
"Yeah," Goten snickered. "They blamed each other. So typical of them both. It was hilarious. Do you think they ever figured out we tricked them?"  
  
"Dude, my father _still_ holds a grudge. Great fight they had, regardless."  
  
"Um, doesn't take much for Vegeta to nurse a grudge."  
  
"Hey now." Trunks kicked sand on Goten's heels, laughing. "Don't get too cocky, though I am glad to see you're feeling better. You hungry yet?"  
  
"A little, maybe."  
  
"Good! Hercule bragged about his cooking. My stomach is growling."  
  
Goten entered the cave, feeling the multilayered rock bedding on the sides. "Still looks the same."  
  
"Yes, it does!" Trunks hooted. "We're not _that_ old. Best part is, we Saiyans stay handsome for a long, long time."  
  
Goten pivoted. "How do you do it?"  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"This, Trunks!" Goten raised his arms toward the cave's ceiling. " _This._ No matter what happens, it's like everything just seems to roll off of your back. It's amazing."  
  
Trunks sighed. "Tell me something. Have you always believed that about me -- that I just let stuff roll off? I almost feel like you're describing a different person."  
  
"Oh, I'm not." Goten flew up to touch the cave's upper surface. "No matter how hard or confusing things got for you at times, you always gave as good as you got -- and managed to laugh through much of it. I just tagged along for the ride."  
  
"So what you're saying is I used you as a sidekick to build up my own ego," Trunks replied. "Right. Thanks for clarifying. I'll just let that _roll off._ "  
  
"Oh come on, man. You know what I mean."  
  
"I don't, actually, but I am aware that some of this is the depression talking."  
  
Goten landed in front of him. "It does that a lot. Lucky me. Been that way for years."  
  
"I wish you could see what I've always seen," Trunks replied. "We're friends for a reason. It was hard for me to feel like I wasn't 'too much' for everyone for a long time."  
  
"Too much of what?"  
  
"Of being like mom _and_ dad. You, on the other hand, just got _to be_. I felt like you didn't have to walk in anyone's footsteps, really. Gohan carried more of that burden. We both saw that. You were just a loving kid who liked having fun. Also consider how our fathers fended for themselves through their childhoods, especially with my dad. They will always have mixed feelings that they can't -- or won't -- verbalize."  
  
"You know, I'll never forget the look in Vegeta's eyes before he tried to kill Majin Buu once and for all. Before he knocked both of us out, I realized that he had accepted that he might not ever see you again. My god…"  
  
"And _I'll never forget_ the first time we met Goku the day that whole nightmare began," Trunks continued. "He opened his arms and smiled like you were the only person there. Until then, no one expected that his life would be restored."  
  
Goten gazed over Trunks' shoulder. "When will you tell Vegeta you're gay?"  
  
"Maybe when you tell Goku and Chi Chi that you are."  
  
Goten put his shades back on as they stood at the cave's entrance. "Everyone in my family knows now. My brother and Videl said they always knew. Dad had no clue, unsurprisingly. I made sure mom understood I wasn't trying to kill myself for that reason -- as ridiculous as it sounds to be having that kind of discussion. That was the hardest part. It was all quite tiring."  
  
"I'm sure it was, but you made it through. Be proud of that. Ready to go?"  
  
"I'm trying, Trunks." Goten stopped, bending over. His grief felt like a gut punch. "I want you to believe me. I really am, but I'm just so tired."  
  
Trunks held him. Goten's guttural sobs hurt his heart. "You are so _very_ , _very_ loved. I wish I could stop the pain. I didn't know how much you were in. I'm so sorry."  
  
"I know…know you love me," Goten said, swallowing hard. "I know you all love me."  
  
"Even my _mean-ass daddy_." Trunks whispered. Then his mouth fell open like a nutty circus clown. "Hah hah!"  
  
Wild laughter followed as they continued walking. When they were kids, Trunks always made that silly face before getting them into some mischief.  
  
"Your _mean-ass daddy_ saved my life just so _you_ could drive _me_ crazy," Goten said, trying to catch his breath.   
  
Trunks' hand brushed the side of Goten's face. "He would probably say that. I owe him so much for that reason -- big time."  
  
"Get it out of your head right now." Goten looked down, holding Trunks' hands. "You are not allowed to have sympathy sex with me. Fuck all that noise."  
  
"I don't pity you, and I know you're vulnerable," Trunks said. "I'm just so thankful you're still here."  
  
Goten's eyes moved from side to side. "Your hair is insanely long, by the way."  
  
"You dislike it?"  
  
"I liked it better when it was a few inches shorter," Goten replied, poking inquisitively at Trunks' locks.  
  
"Stop. My well-kept mane isn't a child's plaything."  
  
"You and your family are so fucking vain!" Goten exclaimed. "Every last one of you."  
  
"And proud of it," Trunks said as they moved in closer. "You will get through this rough patch, you know. I believe it."  
  
He held Goten's face for a while before their first kiss -- the sweetest one both had ever experienced. Goten embraced Trunks as if their lives depended on it, and then stepped back.  
  
"I meant what I said, Trunks. Understand? As much as I've wanted this between us, I need to stand on my two feet… in order to feel whole again."  
  
"When you're ready." Trunks turned, launching skyward with him. "We both know where we stand now, and I agree. You must continue learning about the real Goten -- the one that I've always known and cared for. I'm also not going anywhere."  
  
"I don't expect you to wait for me." Despite his melancholy, Goten delivered a kind smile as the wind whipped around their bodies. "I don't want you to. There's a lot of great sex you could be having while I'm out in the world finding myself."

Trunks glanced at him. "Yeah, I could."  
  
"I'm serious, Trunks."  
  
"I know. Maybe I'm just not interested. Don't get me wrong -- I mean, it's not like I haven't enjoyed myself sexually, but I've never been thirsty for it from anyone."  
  
"Why would you be? Men and women have practically thrown their underwear at your feet since we were teenagers. It's easy to have a casual attitude about that kind of attention when that's what you're used to."  
  
A slack-jawed Trunks stopped in midair, hovering next to him. He had to set further ground rules for how they would communicate. Nothing comes easy.  
  
"Did you forget that my family is filthy rich? Not to mention that both of my parents -- as much as I love them -- are predisposed to bouts of paranoia? Having faith in others' intentions implicitly wasn't the highest concern on their never-ending list of lessons. People may be drawn to me, but it takes _a lot_ of work to gain my trust."  
  
"That last part sounds a lot like something Vegeta would say."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Does that bother you?"  
  
Trunks resumed flight, nodding at Goten to continue with him. "As I said before, I understand where those feelings come from with my dad. I try not to let echoes from his past rule my present actions, but I don't disregard everything. Can’t afford to."  
  
"Neither of us can, I guess," Goten said, extending his arm for a fist bump.  
  
"Not as long as we call ourselves Saiyans, my friend."  
  


* * *

**Comments and questions are welcome!**


	4. Watching From the Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap from last chapter: Goten and Trunks reconciled, expressing their feelings for each other, though they didn't commit to becoming partners. Both acknowledged the tough road ahead as Goten's recovery continues.

Vegeta landed gracefully in a field of swaying blue-green grass. Given his short stature, the vegetation climbed higher around his legs. The ground beneath them was firm as his will. Sunlight pushed through moving clouds, casting a silvery shimmer over a lake basin.  
  
With his hands on his hips, the prince leaned back, staring at the sky, and waited. Goku knew not to test his patience by being too late, though both men noticed long ago that parts of their personalities had, in a way, switched places. That amused them, along with their wives, though neither Saiyan patriarch discussed it much. That "pride thing" between them still got in the way sometimes.  
  
Goku flew overhead, outstretching his arm to greet him. Vegeta nodded, watching his descent closely -- a habit that would never go away. Goku wasn't wearing his orange gi, opting for a cotton shirt and flowing linen pants, and a pair of sandals.  
  
Vegeta's head cocked. "Even for you, Kakarot, that outfit is quite…low key."  
  
Goku laughed, inhaling the fresh early-morning air. "What if I said Bulma bought it for me?"  
  
"I don't take kindly to being lied to," Vegeta huffed. "Also, just because I didn't say anything about sparring when I invited you here doesn't mean that we shouldn't."   
  
"I'm wearing training shorts should we get to that point, Vegeta."  
  
Vegeta smirked. "Very well. Older men must keep themselves productively occupied, as my wife says when she doesn't want me around."  
  
Goku scratched the back of his head. "So what's up?"  
  
The balls of Vegeta's feet pointed down as his body rose over the grass. Gravity had no meaning, but he still felt a weight. Sadness was no stranger to him. Boiling rage masked that pain when he was younger, raining on others wantonly. In this moment, though, he was merely a father still trying to accept what already passed.  
  
"Come with me to the lake's shore."  
  
Goku's face became serious. "Are you OK?"  
  
"Kakarot!" Vegeta's lips pursed as he raced ahead of him. "Can you just follow my lead _for once_ in your undeservingly charmed life?"  
  
" _Lives_ , Vegeta -- and some people might say the same thing about you."  
  
"Oh, most certainly they would!" the prince shouted, hovering over the lake. "But I could give a horse's ass what others think!"  
  
Though frustrated with Vegeta's enigmatic behavior, Goku felt in his element. They were half-arguing and half-joking, like brothers. If there was anyone who could pull him out of silence, it was Vegeta. The months since Goten's suicide attempt were rife with awkward silences and unspoken misunderstandings within the Son family, and though all were dedicated in their efforts to support him, Goku had the hardest time figuring out how.  
  
"How are you going to deal with Goten?" Vegeta asked abruptly.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"What I just said. You aren't handling what happened well at all."  
  
Goku didn't appreciate being confronted, but at least Vegeta chose a secluded place to do it. He stayed quiet, searching his brain for other clues about this choice.  
  
"So it got you to thinking about your own son?"  
  
"Both of my sons," Vegeta said somberly, "but mostly the older Trunks."  
  
"Do you feel guilty?"  
  
"For treating him so poorly from the outset? No. He forgave me…completely… the last time I saw him. I accepted it, because he asked me to promise not to hold any guilt."   
  
Goku's brow furrowed. "The last time?"  
  
"Years ago, of course." Vegeta's eyes lowered as the lake's earthy scent wafted around them. "I spread his ashes in this place. He died seven years after he left our world the last time, when we thought we'd never see him again. It was two weeks after Trunks the younger's twenty-first birthday."  
  
Goku's heart fell as the reality sank in. "But…but how?"  
  
"Hn." Vegeta shrugged his shoulders, as if implying that Goku should know better. "That's a surprising question coming from someone who knows how to make powerful friends in high places. After Anisum became very ill, he asked Whis to see me before he died. That wish was granted because of what you and I did to save the multiverse."  
  
"Anisum?"  
  
"It's the Saiyan name I would have given my son in this timeline if Bulma hadn't named him first, when she and I were separated. I performed a naming ceremony before Anisum passed. It pleased him. He was no longer that boy from the future. He was a man who lived honorably -- a better man than me."  
  
Vegeta turned away from Goku briefly, taking a heavy breath to continue.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Vegeta ---"  
  
"I am _grateful_ for the time I got with him, so don't be sorry, Kakarot. Save that sympathy you have now for your own son."  
  
The solid positioning of Vegeta's chin and eyes shifted just enough, on purpose, for Goku to recognize the pain the Saiyan prince felt.  
  
"You didn't tell Bulma or your kids, did you?" Goku asked. "You've been carrying this weight alone for all of this time?"  
  
"It's taking everything I have in me to speak of it now. I watched him breathe his last. The disease that took him from us withered his strong body. His mind was still sharp, but he had been in so much pain. He didn't want our family to see him that way. He had been sick for a while. It was too late."  
  
At first, Goku didn't know what to say. Once again, Vegeta opened his mental fortress, carefully displaying his emotions in order to make _him_ take action.  
  
"Goten doesn't talk to me much. I mean, he's not being mean or acting out. I just don't know how to reach him. His brother and Videl's family seem to do better."  
  
"Then you must work harder to reach him, damn it! Use that affection you showed so freely when our sons were boys, Kakarot! I had to work my ass off to reach half of where you got with that, and my family means...everything to me. Watching from the other side, I guarantee that standing over Goten's _eternal_ grave, as we are with my son's now, is the last place you want to be at this place in your life."  
  
"Don't you think I know that, Vegeta?!" Goku shouted with white-hot fury. "I watched him almost die at the hospital! And it's not like you and I haven't been trying to keep our families alive for all these years!"  
  
"That's right!" Vegeta snarled back. "All the more reason to be on guard, because there are no threats from the outside. The threat is internal. As powerful and brave as Anisum was, witnessing his mother's murder broke him. I have no doubt that the pain and shame he felt over not saving her too weakened his will to fight for himself. Had I known, I would have…have brought him back here earlier."  
  
"Fighting is what I know. _It's what we know_. It's more than just about raw power. Hell, that's what kept _you_ here for so long _at first_ \-- not conquering Earth. It was me! I also learned lessons from my teachers that I shared with my boys, when I was able to. You know, like being flexible, enjoying life, focusing the mind. Just because I wasn't educated like everyone else -- including you -- doesn't mean I don't have any understanding about life."  
  
"Well, now it isn't about you," Vegeta countered, "and don't fool yourself into believing you haven't been just as selfish as I have been many times to serve yourself -- and still can be. My wife deals with it differently, but Bulma also knows my attention is one-hundred percent on her _the moment_ she demands it."  
  
"And _don't tell me_ you haven't questioned how Goten could do something like this without a good reason -- and that the _perfect_ son _you and Bulma raised_ would never, ever do anything like it. _I know how you your mind works, Vegeta_. Don't you think I'm entitled to feel disappointed?"  
  
Vegeta stared him down. He was reaching his emotional limit as their argument escalated. "I never _said_ that you didn't have that right, Kakarot. You also have never felt the kind of desolation that causes one to want to lay down _and die_. Not even _once._ I've said my piece, and now I need to be alone. Do as you will."  
  
He ascended like a rocket over the lake's basin, heading toward the snow-capped mountain range overlooking it. Goku wanted to follow him, to talk things through and make amends, but then he visualized the prince spreading Anisum's ashes over the water.  
  
He couldn't try to be the hero in this. That's what Vegeta was trying to tell him. That's not what his son needed.

* * *

  
"Hey, mom."  
  
"Hi, kiddo." Bulma removed her work goggles and gloves. Sparks had been soaring like dragonflies prior to her son's unexpected arrival. "I said I don't want to see your face anywhere near one of my labs or garages for at least two weeks."  
  
In an instant, Trunks had his mother in his arms, carrying her to the observation deck at the uppermost part of Bulma's favorite workroom.  
  
"Do you actually think I listen to you?" Trunks replied, kissing his mother's forehead. "You still haven't learned."  
  
Bulma laughed, twirling her lavender-gray curls between her fingers. "You're still in training, technically. You see how well I whipped your father into shape."  
  
"You make a good point -- but, um, you can't marry me."  
  
"Very funny." Bulma picked up two mugs, heading to her prized coffee machine. "You're lucky that I had the timer on. Espresso, latte, or flat white? And let us not forget that your father asked me to marry him two years before I got pregnant with your sister."  
  
"How could I forget? It was the most nervous I'd ever seen him. It was hilarious, but grandma coached him well. Flat white, please. Thank you."  
  
Bulma tapped her foot as machine's grinder hummed. "So polite, my handsome, and charming son is. OK, so what do you want, you devious brat?"  
  
Trunks took his cup, lapping the steaming white foam from the top. He stared at yet another new fighting suit Bulma designed on a mannequin constructed to match his father's size and height.   
  
"Well?" Bulma blew on her coffee, watching him. "What do you think?"  
  
"It looks great, mom. Has dad seen it yet?"  
  
"Nope. I told him to stay away from here for a while too. Absence makes the heart grow fonder -- and keeps one happily married. Now tell me what's on your mind, son."  
  
"Would you be OK if I asked talked with him more about the other Trunks?"  
  
Bulma sat down, opening a box of sweet ginger biscuits. "You're an adult. Why are you asking for my permission?"  
  
"Because, if things go south with our talk, I want you to be prepared."  
  
Bulma chomped slowly on her biscuit, assessing the risks. Indeed, Vegeta hadn't spoken of their "big boy" -- as they jokingly called him-- for a while. Sometimes she expressed sadness that he didn't live with them after learning how much Vegeta had changed. She assumed her husband's silence meant that he felt the same, because he never left her side when she brought the subject up. She didn't push Vegeta to express much.  
  
"First, why do you think a chat with your dad could 'go south'? Second, what do you need to know that either of us haven't told you already?"  
  
"Mom, I didn't find out about the guy until I was thirteen, when he showed up _half-dead_ in a time machine another brilliant Bulma Brief built for a second time, seeking your help. The upside was knowing I would still be a _dashing_ man in my thirties."  
  
They laughed as Bulma placed her hands over his. "We didn't expect to see him again, honey, but that doesn't mean we never planned to tell you."  
  
"You know, I asked him what dad was like when they first met."  
  
"He told me. You enjoyed bonding with him, while giving him a hard time."  
  
"Yeah. He's a good man. He said many things about dad, but he never answered my question directly."  
  
Yet again Bulma faced a choice to jump into the deep end of the conversation pool. She wouldn't go too far, though. Perhaps it would be good for the two men she loved most to discuss the subject further.  
  
"You still idolized your dad. Trunks knew it within seconds of meeting you. He had high hopes about Vegeta after they met during your infancy -- he was still seventeen -- and your father _torched them_ in short order, and quite nastily. Why would that sweet young man tell a happy, loving kid all of that unvarnished?"  
  
A pole rose from the middle of the table, opening a flickering medium-size screen. Trunks stood, moving behind it. Bulma smiled as the monitor broadcast Vegeta sitting cross-legged in the middle of their bed.  
  
"Hiya, babe."  
  
"Hi."  
  
"What are you doing in the bedroom at this time of day?"  
  
"Don't tell me you're sleeping with someone new." Vegeta's eyes darted as if he were scanning the room. "Is he locked in your shoe closet?"  
  
Trunks tried hard not to laugh as Bulma, feeling slightly embarrassed, pinched the bridge of her nose. He liked seeing this playfully intimate side of his parents' marriage. His mind dwelled on how it would feel to have that kind of long-term relationship with Goten.  
  
"My imaginary paramour would have to be human, with no power for you to detect whatsoever," Bulma replied wryly. "Now what's up, bad man? You OK?"  
  
"No." Vegeta paused, almost losing his voice altogether. "No, actually, I'm not. Can you just come home, Bulma? Please."  
  
"Of course." Bulma's hands unfolded as the cracks in his stony visage widened. Despite her worry, no sign of upset showed on her face. "I'll be there as soon as I can."  
  
Trunks moved beside her as the call ended. "We'll fly home. OK, mom?"  
  
"Yes, please. I don't know what happened, but I think you should be there with us."


	5. What You Want to See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: Vegeta confronted Goku about the severity of Goten's condition, also revealing the tragic death of his other son -- now renamed Prince Anisum -- after seven years of silence.

Almost everyone who fought and forged friendships with Anisum visited the Brief family's estate to pay their respects two days after Vegeta told his wife and children. The argument with Goku had been too much for him to keep the secret any longer. Though shocked and devastated by the news, Bulma and Trunks showed no anger toward him. Vegeta silently held his wife as she sobbed, while Bulla hugged her big brother's waist.   
  
Gohan and -- to his great happiness -- Goten stepped in to bring their friends together. As sad as this was, Gohan in particular took solace in knowing that the heroic and caring man who died -- the one who accelerated Vegeta's personal transformation -- would likely be profoundly gratified. As a boy Gohan saw everything, watching a beyond-reluctant father and yearning son forge an uneasy bond against deadly enemies.  
  
As men, Gohan and Anisum felt honored to meet again, both hoping that life wouldn't turn against either of them. Young Trunks and Goten watched in awe and spent most of the year Anisum lived with the Brief clan within the young man's orbit. He kindly obliged, along with the woman he later married, Mai, before returning to their timeline.  
  
Trunks' extraversion as an adult didn't always extend to grand shows of emotion in situations like these. He was much more like Vegeta in that respect now: supportive, quiet, pensive. His mother thrived on having many people around, talking and joking, maybe even crying. Neither Trunks nor Vegeta faulted her for it, because they loved her.  
  
Trunks roamed through the shadows of the terraces and colonnades of the estate's sprawling gardens, which were lined with rows of towering evergreens and yews. He passed a pond speckled with water lilies with violet blossoms, slowing near a scene of his family carved into marble four years earlier. The adults weren't thrilled at the time about sitting for a bas-relief sculpture, of all things, but Bulla wanted it for her tenth birthday. Vegeta astonished everyone by volunteering to choose their attire, expecting it to be handmade. By the time it was over, the royal family had a truly remarkable rendering of themselves.  
  
With his head bowed, Trunks leaned forward to touch the carving, deep in thought. His guard was down because he didn't feel like holding it up. Goten's walking wasn't loud. The sound was detectable, though, because he was using a cane. But Trunks noticed nothing until warm fingers interlaced with his.  
  
"Is it all right to ask if you're OK?"  
  
"What an interesting way to ask a question." Trunks squeezed Goten's hand but didn't look up. "The weirdest thing about meeting Anisum was ---."  
  
"Wondering whether you'd grow up to be like him," Goten said, observing the sculpture. "I know. He was so kind that you couldn't be jealous if you tried."  
  
"Dad was hard on him a long, long time ago. That I know. I think that's why he's in so much pain."  
  
"No, Trunks." Goten shook his head. "I think Vegeta is hurting so much precisely because he had high hopes the last time we saw Anisum. If there was anyone who deserved happiness, it was him. That man lost almost everything and suffered so much. Vegeta understands what that feels like. We all helped Anisum cope."  
  
"Yeah." Trunks smiled, facing him. "He and dad beat the living shit out each other the entire year he and Mai stayed. Dad went on a tear about him living up to the title as a Saiyan warrior prince. They enjoyed it."  
  
Goten laughed. "I remember it vividly. But you never really talked about how you felt when they went off to fight together in the other dimension."  
  
"There was nothing to discuss, Goten. Anisum needed help. No matter how many times his planet was attacked, that was his home. Dad wouldn't deny that to him. He… couldn't."  
  
"Vegeta could have tried to keep him here -- and stayed safe himself."  
  
"Look, what are you trying to say?" Clearly frustrated, Trunks released Goten's hand. "Anisum couldn't desert Mai or the other people still trapped on their planet. I respected what my father did. Keep _your ambivalence_ about parental relationships on your side of the fence. Mine are just fine."  
  
"I respected what Vegeta did too," Goten said, holding Trunks gaze. "What I'm saying is this has stirred up feelings about how you compare to Anisum. It's no coincidence that I expected you to be in this exact place, looking at this portrait."  
  
"My feelings matter less right now. I saw something different about my father when he told us. I almost felt like he's struggling not to go into a dark place. I mean, he held this back from us for seven years. It must have hurt more that Mai chose not to return with him."  
  
Goten placed his hand on Trunks' chest. He knew exactly how Vegeta felt, and suspected that his suicide attempt might have triggered some of it. That bothered him considerably.  
  
"Then you should trust your judgment. You can't be there for your parents without dealing with your own emotions. Your feelings do matter, just like you said to me."  
  
Trunks heart pounded as he stared at the bright crescent moon. Each step they took on a long path through the gardens became harder. Now wasn't the time fall apart, but worried and angry tears broke through anyway.  
  
His teeth gritted as he covered his eyes. "You know how much _I hate_ feeling helpless. I'm terrified that…that he'll sink into that depressive hole. I don't _ever_ want my sister to go through that, especially since she thinks the world of him. You saw how determined I was as a kid to make him focus on me. I just wanted him to be happy."  
  
"He adores you, Trunks. He couldn't be any prouder. Also, it wasn't your job to _make him_ happy. I can say with assurance that he never wanted that from you."  
  
"Yes, he is proud of me. He loves our family more than his own life. He's also been in mourning about other losses in his life since the day he arrived on Earth. It's never completely gone away. Sometimes I don't know how mom did it."  
  
"Did what?"  
  
Trunks wiped his face impatiently. "Look, I can't do this anymore right now. I can't return to the house all messy like this. I'm sure my face is puffy."  
  
"You're best-looking messy person I know," Goten replied, smirking wickedly. "That won't change. The puffiness is cute in its own way too."  
  
He moved back, leaning on his cane. Trunks didn't think he'd ever get used to seeing him have one, though he had to accept it.  
  
"How are we going to do this, Goten? The one thing I know now is I need you by my side. I meant what I said on the beach -- that I want you to rediscover yourself and heal on your own terms -- but I also realize there's no reason for us to be apart while that happens."  
  
"Consider what you just said about your father, Trunks. I won't let you relive that behavior with me. We love each other, but you will become resentful. You didn't feel like you could be with Vegeta, because you looked up to him so much, but this is different."  
  
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but you're being unfair. I almost lost you. I cried at your bedside every night when I was alone at hospital. Mai lost her husband too young. That is what compels me. Yeah, I may get upset with you, but that's part of being in a relationship."  
  
Goten stopped by the reflecting pool, using his ki to spin water lily blossoms between them.  
  
"I'll tell you how Bulma did it. She didn't feel like she had to fix everything. She had a child to raise. She was very tough on Vegeta when she had to be, and gave him space. She didn't beg for approval. She listened, when he came to her, and expected him to listen. She had empathy, and he learned to accept his capacity to offer the same to others."  
  
Trunks arms crossed. "Damn, you sure did observe a ton about my parents' relationship."  
  
"Yeah, I did. How could I not? Hell, it was all out on display -- warts and all."  
  
"And what about Goku and Chi Chi?"  
  
"Oh please, Trunks! You know the answer to that. They're more like roommates now. Dad can never give her what she wants."  
  
Trunks stole one of the blossoms from midair, inhaling the heady citrus scent. Goten rubbed the coal-black stubble on his chin. Depression tugged at his choices. It could be this way forever. Trunks didn't deserve to tie himself down with a crippled man.  
  
"So you're saying indirectly there's a chance we might end up like them," Trunks replied. "Whatever, man. We can run in circles about this subject all night. I need to return inside. Dad hasn't left the conservatory since everyone arrived. He didn't accept any visitors except for your brother and Krillin."  
  
"Krillin? Really?"  
  
"You already know Gohan is taking this hard. Krillin is too. Dad has a deep respect for their kindness to Anisum during their fight against Cell, when they were younger. I have to go… now. Stay out here as long as you want. It's a beautiful night."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Goten pivoted on his cane, pacing himself. He hadn't told anyone about losing more sensation on that side of his body. Maneuvering still was fine. He still had more than enough physical strength to carry him anywhere he wanted -- and fight if necessary.   
  
Trunks re-entered the conservatory, quietly closing the door. Vegeta hadn't moved from the same place where they left him earlier that day. He greeted Trunks with a sluggish head turn. Trunks sensed his father's unspoken appreciation to have him there regardless.  
  
"Don't worry about me, son."  
  
Trunks knelt, laying a hand on his father's knee. "Maybe I'm just repaying the favor."  
  
"I didn't deserve you back then -- or him," Vegeta replied, touching the top of Trunks' head. "Promise me you will live life to the fullest."  
  
Trunks nodded. "I promise, father."  
  
"Then you should go back outside to find Goten."  
  
"He's fine," Trunks replied. "He was only checking on me."  
  
He didn't realize what Vegeta was doing -- until he did. A lump rose in his throat. He definitely didn't anticipate having this talk now.  
  
Vegeta's eyebrow arched. "I told your mother I wouldn't ask."  
  
"Then what the hell are you doing now?" Trunks chuckled, shaking his head. "Must you always give me shit all of the time?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I planned to tell you that I'm gay, dad. I really did."  
  
"When, Trunks?" Vegeta scowled as if he were deeply offended. ”After you settled down with a mate in another universe?"  
  
"Until now, never in a million years would I ever believe my tough old father would fuss like an old lady over my love life." Trunks stood, laughing harder. "Mom doesn't even do that anymore."  
  
Vegeta's withering glare could have burned holes through glass. "Get out, boy. I said live your life, not take years from mine."  
  


* * *

  
Trunks took his father's advice, returning outside. Goten was sitting alone in the garden's secluded pavilion. He moved beside him.  
  
"How is Vegeta?"  
  
"Better."  
  
"That's good."  
  
"He said I should find you before revealing that he knows I'm gay -- and you too, apparently."  
  
Goten pushed the cane down, resting his hands and chin on the tip. "Did he give you shit about not telling him for so long?"  
  
They both laughed, exclaiming, "Of course he did!"  
  
"You mean to tell me Vegeta is playing matchmaker?" Goten asked incredulously. "Were _we_ sent to another planet? What's next? Bulma is a covert Saiyan operative with relaxed hair?"  
  
"Why don't you ask?" Trunks quipped. "I'm sure she'd have some choice words about that."  
  
Goten's eyes flicked to one side, shifting from Trunks' thoughtful gaze. His suspicion had been confirmed: His attempted suicide may have triggered all of this. Now he felt worse. His smile faded.  
  
"Your dad's emotions are raw."   
  
"Yeah, but you know Prince Vegeta doesn't do doublespeak. If he sees this about us without judgment, then maybe we should pay attention."  
  
"Look at me, Trunks."  
  
"Goten --"  
  
"No, Trunks!" Goten clutched his wrist. "You look at me! _Everything._ Not just what you want to see. My body is disabled -- by my own hands -- and so is my mind. This is for _the rest_ of my life. Are you really ready to take that on?"  
  
"I know what I see. I love you, Goten. I'll keep saying it through your pain. I'll say it on your good days and bad days. _I love you._ I'm not going anywhere. I meant that. Don't push me away. You are enough. You deserve to be loved."  
  
Their muscles tensed as a nightingales whistled their birdsong in the distance. The moon's silvery sheen accentuated Trunks' blue eyes. Goten moved Trunks' hair back as their bodies edged closer.  
  
"Next to Vegeta, I now believe you truly are the most determined man I've ever known."  
  
Trunks smiled. "Well, I come by that behavior righteously."  
  
"Indeed you do."   
  
Trunks laid the cane aside. His warm, strong hands swathed Goten's shoulders. He kissed each cheek, temples, and the crown of his head. Goten sighed, lifting his neck as Trunks' lapped at the base of his collar bone. His tongue felt rough and soft and deliciously hot.  
  
Trunks' relaxed eyes traveled up, watching him. "Do you want me to stop?"  
  
"No."  
  
Trunks unfastened Goten's pants, moistening his lips. "Then lean back."


	6. Truth Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap from last chapter: In the aftermath of a tragedy in the Brief family, Goten and Trunks declare their love for each other completely, and consummate their relationship.

  
"Who would have thought that Vegeta had wiser parenting instincts than me?"  
  
"I'm not sure he would agree with you, dad."  
  
Goku smiled, shooing irritated hens away from his legs. Goten watched from behind a fence in front of the chicken coop on their property.   
  
"Goten, if I said it directly to his face -- even if he didn't agree -- he wouldn't admit it."  
  
"OK, fine, dad. You win."   
  
Goku's affable stubbornness had been a blessing and a curse of sorts for everyone who knew him. He could enrage and charm others with a happy-go-lucky smile -- and then proceed to kick ass and take names. In general, though, even he could identify examples where he could have -- or definitely should have -- taken some situations more seriously.   
  
"Are you going to help me collect these eggs for Chi Chi or watch comfortably?"  
  
Goten limped into the fenced yard, watching a rooster strut around as if he owned the place. It amused him. Most animals did, even the ones considered "dangerous." Chickens weren't, of course. They all seemed to share a collective curiosity about those walking among them.  
  
"So who is this fine fella right here?" he asked, referring to the aloof rooster. "His plumage has some superstar appeal. All those pretty little hens must like him."  
  
Goku continued spreading wild seeds, ignoring that particular bird. "Oh. That's Vegeta."  
  
Goten's lips pursed. "Dad, you've _go_ t to be kidding me. Don't you think that's a bit overboard? Not to mention, you will probably never set foot in Bulma's house again -- ever -- if Vegeta finds out you named a yard bird after him."  
  
"Your mother named him, Goten, not me."  
  
"Um, OK." Goten scratched his head, looking back at their house. "Her sense of humor gets stranger each day."  
  
Goku dropped the can of seeds, wiping his hands with a towel. Goten wasn't walking with the cane, which he considered a good sign, but uneasiness still nagged at him. He tried to be more available to his son in a different way, heeding Vegeta's warning. Goten was responding differently, but that could be related to his relationship with Trunks.  
  
Gohan shared the news that the two were partners now and appeared to be very much in love. Chi Chi's hurt feelings that they were the last to know upset Goku. Everyone in the Son clan tried their best to support Goten, and yet he seemed more enthralled with the family who didn't raise him directly, Goku believed -- but refused to admit jealousy.  
  
"Yeah, I guess, but Chi Chi also really likes the cocky little bastard. She picked him when we went to the market. I guess it's her way of expressing her feelings over Vegeta saving you."  
  
Goten removed a small tube from his pocket, which unfolded. His cane extended with a forceful thrust, striking the ground. The hens scattered, while the rooster stared indifferently. The cane had the ubiquitous "C" logo from Capsule Corporation -- another rankling reminder for Goku of what now seemed to be endless charity from Bulma's family.  
  
"Does what mom did bother you?"  
  
Goku shrugged, squinting at the afternoon sun. "Doesn't matter. Would have been silly for me to tell her that."  
  
"So _it did_ bother you," Goten said, approaching him. He noticed Goku's focused stare at his leg. "Wanna talk about it?"  
  
Goku had a flashback, recalling his battles with Vegeta. The worst -- and also the most invigorating -- happened during Majin Buu's near destruction of all life on Earth. Though Vegeta had been demonically possessed, sending him to the edge of psychosis, the force of his prideful personality reigned as they fought. He broke the spell, but they kept going. Maybe he hadn't intended to kill Goku, but he denied his true love for his family in that moment. It was Vegeta who wanted to die, and Goku knew it. They could have fought to death, but instead he challenged the prince's self-hatred and disavowal.  
  
He did that.  
  
Goku acknowledged the innate, heartfelt goodness in Vegeta as much as those who loved and respected him now -- and even before most others did. But seeing how much everyone revered Bulma and Vegeta's family now irked him at times. Goten's further absorption into their comfortable lives didn't sit well with him either. What if guilt was driving Trunks' romantic involvement with his son? Where would they be then? Goten's emotions would be destroyed, perhaps driving him to try suicide again.  
  
"Everything is fine," Goku lied. "What I'd like to discuss is that leg of yours."  
  
Goten didn't know what annoyed him more: his father's lie or comment about his physicality. He made it clear to everyone, including Trunks, that there would be no extreme training with anyone or further medical intervention to "make him" better. Bulma had doctors ready to use state-of-the-art techniques. Having Saiyan genes also offered an advantage, everyone knew, if the right treatment therapies were used.  
  
"There are lots of things we could discuss, dad. This isn't one of them."  
  
Goku's fists clenched. "I really don't care right now if you get mad at me."  
  
"I'm not angry," Goten replied, "but I do think you're struggling with my decision to accept this physical flaw."  
  
"Flaw?" Goku leaned on the chicken coop's wall. "I would never use that word to describe anyone in your condition. You're telling on yourself."  
  
"Not really," Goten said calmly. "Just because you don't use the word doesn't mean you don't think of it that way."  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Goku's grief felt like water flooding his lungs. "It's like you're trying to hurt me. I've done nothing wrong. I love you."  
  
"Dad, I know, and I don't love you any less. You just can't relate to me. Have you noticed that the people you only take interest in share a rock-solid connection around fighting? Gohan was just super talented at just about everything, so he's the exception, I guess. In some ways, I feel like you look up to him rather than the other way around."  
  
"What about Bulma then?"  
  
"You, she and Krillin basically grew up together. Beyond that, Bulma played a huge role in helping you be as successful as _the males_ who trained you. You owe her a lot."  
  
"Chi Chi was a dynamic fighter too, son. Beat my ass something terrible when we were kids during those tournaments. She taught you how to before I could, remember?"  
  
"And mom always had other interests. After your life was restored, you weren't that involved in learning more about them, but her life still revolved around you."  
  
Both men wanted to leave. Their fixed stares, however, exhorted the other to stay. Goku felt like a viscous, mind-altering infection had captured Goten's spirit. He wanted to take a fist to the shroud and make it dissolve.  
  
"You seem to have an answer for everything," he replied, barely hiding the powerlessness he felt. "I guess I can't win in your eyes."  
  
"This is not about winning!" Goten shouted. "Damn it. There's nothing to win! I'm just trying to…to see myself. It's not like I want to feel like this. It started earlier than you think. Depression _is a disease_ that distorts other problems people deal with."  
  
"Like wanting our family to be more like Bulma and Vegeta's? " Goku retorted. "Are you embarrassed of us now? Has that always been the case?"  
  
Goku held back from detailing some uglier parts of the past -- to disabuse his son from deifying the other side -- but he grew tired of feeling like the bad person. For his entire life, he was the one others admired because he was "good." None of the parents were perfect either. All did stupid things, but they also sacrificed to support their children the best way they could.   
  
"Maybe we both wanted _some_ of what they have, dad, but much of it came with big costs for them too. I also have never been embarrassed of our family. Not now. Not ever. I felt like the embarrassment."  
  
"Would you believe that Vegeta told me he once wanted what we had?"  
  
"Yeah, I do." Goten pointed the cane at the fence entrance, expecting Goku to follow his lead. "Why do you think he's so protective of his own -- and that he tells truths that others don't want to hear sometimes? Now are you coming or staying here?"  
  
Goku pulled a knapsack over his shoulder. "I suppose I don't have a choice. Being able to talk is better than not saying anything. I…missed you. Where do you want to go?"  
  
"You're not hungry yet?"  
  
"I am starving!" Goku's wide eyes lit up like firecrackers. "I think Yamcha's restaurant has two burgers for a dollar today. So maybe I can order about thirty of them! They're really big."  
  
Goten laughed, patting his father's back. "I'm not sure that will be enough for you."  
  
"Don't forget the fries, son! Oh, and the milkshakes. I think they have biscuits too!"  
  
"They do, dad. Chocolate and cinnamon today."  
  
"Ooooh!!!"  
  


* * *

  
The smell of burnt rubber smacked Goten's sensitive nostrils hard. He pulled his turtleneck shirt over the bottom half of his face. Trunks owned the building, but there was no reason to torture the other residents beneath this sprawling penthouse with malodorous culinary disasters. He sighed, watching the security pad scan his palm.  
  
"What the fuck are you doing in here?" he yelled dramatically. "Dissecting stink bugs?"  
  
Trunks strolled out of the kitchen dressed in what seemed to be a charcoal-streaked apron. He rarely didn't smile these days, now that they were officially a couple. His hand rubbed Goten's beard as they kissed. He couldn't keep his eyes off him.   
  
"Many bugs are good for protein. Hungry?"  
  
Goten's nose twitched as he considered this visual. Trunks used to gag over any discussion of insects, though worms never seemed to bother him.   
  
"Maybe tomorrow I'll be. Dad wanted to eat at Yamcha's burger place."  
  
"Good." Trunks clapped his hands, chuckling. "I tried a new recipe. Totally backfired."  
  
"Yeah, my nose tipped me off to that disaster. Maybe you should order takeout food for yourself tonight."  
  
"Nah, I don't need to overeat anyway. Dad and I are sparring in the morning. Want to come watch?"  
  
"You need time alone with your dad. Bulma says you and Bulla are doing a good job keeping his spirits up."  
  
Trunks' smile didn't go away, but its position shifted. Goten noticed.  
  
"When did you talk to mom?"  
  
"This morning, before I met up with my father. Something wrong?"  
  
"No, no." Trunks chest puffed out, radiating confidence. "Not at all. Look, I need a glass of wine. You coming with me or want to retire for the evening?"   
  
Goten delayed answering, expecting his lover to come clean. Trunks had something on his mind -- a few somethings, perhaps. His cheeks were rosy too, indicating that he likely finished off an already open bottle of wine earlier. He had a high tolerance for alcohol, perhaps even higher than Bulma's, but she stopped drinking altogether when Bulla was five. She never explained her reasons, but Vegeta was likely involved in the decision.  
  
"I realize you're champing at the bit to know how things went with dad today, Trunks. So, no, I'm not ready to retire for the evening."

Trunks' voice left an echoing trail as he jogged into the kitchen. "You can tell me how much or as little as you want."  
  
Goten breathed slowly to steady his ki. He started many days with lots of energy, but evenings could be hit or miss. This night might be a "miss," given his tiredness. Good sex with Trunks perked him up usually, and he admitted to Goku that he _could_ spend more time exercising to stay in shape. Lingering physical problems from his poisoning came and went. He had been honest with Trunks about them, except for his eyesight. One eye wasn't focusing properly now, though nobody could tell yet. As kids, he and Trunks learned from Gohan and Vegeta about managing poor eyesight in difficult situations. He fell back on this training, thinking the problem would work itself out too.  
  
"How about you remove that raggedy piece of string you call a workout shirt and then come talk with me? Looking at your chest in full pectoral blossom will be my dessert."  
  
Trunks almost tripped with the wine bottle in hand. There was no rug in sight, so he blamed Goten's creative choice of words.  
  
"Pectoral blossom? Ewww. Please, don't _ever_ use those words to describe my body again. Are you trying to give me nightmares?"  
  
"Maybe I am," Goten said, reaching for the uncorked bottle. "Then we can _comfort_ each other in bed. By the way, how much wine did you have earlier? I hope that's not why it smells like the aftermath of a three-alarm fire in here."  
  
"The kitchen is fine. I used the fire extinguisher."  
  
"Holy shit, man." Goten looked over Trunks' shoulder, squinting. "Are you serious? I'm going in there."  
  
"No, you aren't." Trunks held the wine bottle behind his back, using the other hand smoothly draw Goten's lips to his. "I told you, everything is fine. Trust me."  
  
Trunks spoke with a rich, enticing baritone. Goten called it "dark roast" because of its smokiness and silky timbre. There was some truth that Trunks could almost get anyone into bed for sex. Having that kind of voice helped volumes.  
  
"Ha!" Goten exclaimed, snickering as they kissed. "How many times have I heard _that_ nonsense?! It _always_ got us in trouble for something _you_ did."  
  
"Yeah, but we're adults now," Trunks hummed pleasantly. "No one gets to tell us what to do anymore. We can eat all the candy we want too."  
  
Goten, resting his back on a wall, loosened Trunks' grip on the bottle. "I do like the sound of that, you devil, but there are trade-offs. Either we make love or we talk."  
  
Their eyes relaxed as Trunks laid on Goten's chest. They stayed in the same position, laughing quietly, until Goten's hand gently cradled the back of his lover's head.  
  
"Are you… going to tell me what's wrong, Trunks?"  
  
"I'm not drunk."  
  
Goten kissed his left temple, sighing. "I know you aren't, but you're good at walking along the edge, as you are now, which doesn't happen often. Exercise is normally your stress reliever. Now are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"  
  
Trunks didn't move, thinking about a conversation with his mother earlier that day. For a brief moment he worried that she said something to Goten, but it didn't appear that way. Bulma suggested that he might need to see a therapist. There had been a lot of loss in their lives, she said, and unresolved fear over losing Goten could cause problems.  
  
"You know your father and I are different," she warned kindly. "You also must have support as Goten's partner. Remember, though you have Saiyan genes and are Prince Vegeta's son, you _were raised_ on Earth."  
  
Trunks wasn't keen on sharing her comments with Goten, considering their own talk about the road ahead for their relationship in the garden a month earlier. The man he loved was chronically ill. That was that. He had a responsibility not to make it worse.  
  
His head rose, drawing air into his lungs. "Not right now. I'm not ready to talk about it. Just give… me some time."  
  
"That's fair. You're being honest with me. Expect me to ask again at some point."  
  
"I know you will." Trunks clasped his lover's hand, nodding. "How about a shower?"  
  
Two hours later, long linen window shades descended from the walls, covering picture windows with expansive views of West City's skyline. The flames licked higher on the logs in the fireplace as Trunks and Goten's robe-clad bodies lay tangled around each other. The skylight far above their heads allowed a soft evening glow to hang over them. Trunks' sleep-heavy eyelids sunk as Goten's fingers massaged his cock.  
  
"That feels good."  
  
"Did you expect it to feel bad?" Goten winked as his hand extended further underneath, tugging lightly at Trunks' balls. "I do pride myself on having some marketable skills."  
  
"Give or take a few," Trunks replied, touching his face. "I'll concede that."  
  
He let out a soft groan as Goten loosened the tie on his robe. The exposed skin suddenly popped with a fine layer of bumps and a sweaty sheen. Goten's lips parted at the sight. His firm hands rounded over Trunks' muscular arms until they were locked into a tighter embrace that comforted them both.  
  
Trunks' groin tingled from the cascade of Goten's warm breath on his neck. His hand cupped his lover's ass, fingers pressing deep into its hardened softness. Goten's lips returned to the seam of Trunks mouth, driving an eager tongue within. Their panting became coarser and hungrier. Goten's thigh pressed harder onto Trunks' widening dick. Maybe it was the wine he had earlier, but Trunks felt giddy-- but in a good way.  
  
"So what would you like me to call you?" Goten grinned as Trunks spine stiffened. His finger pulsed the vein on his lover's dick, luring him further into a trance-like state.  
  
Trunks smiled. "Whatever you want?"  
  
Knowing that Goten felt good enough to initiate sex like this pleased Trunks. He would go with him wherever the path led. His fingers dug into the pillows on both sides as Goten swallowed his cock whole. His guttural moans echoed as Goten lips pressed further up, unleashing a torrent of pleasurable throbbing.  
  
Trunks' hips bucked as Goten's beard brushed along his cock's grooves and shaft. His hands took hold of Goten's thick hair, pulling and stroking.  
  
Their lovemaking wasn't always so tender, but neither of them were holding back now.  
  
Neither had to be in control.  
  
Neither felt safer than being right there in each other's arms.  
  


* * *

  
  
The alarm on Trunks' phone chimed at the ungodly hour of 4:30 a.m. the next day. He had to meet Vegeta in thirty minutes for their sparring session. At first he thought Goten was asleep but then listened to the pace of his breathing. He kissed his shoulder from behind.  
  
"Sorry to wake you up."  
  
"It's OK. I know…know you have to meet your dad."   
  
His voice sounded small, not at all like the man who turned him out the night before.  
  
"You sure you don't want to hang with us?" Trunks propped up on his elbow, attempting to get a better look at Goten's features. "Hey, what's wrong?"  
  
Not realizing how he actually appeared, Goten slowly turned to face him. "Nothing. I want you to go ---"  
  
"No, I'm not going anywhere," Trunks said as his hands trembled from fear and anger, "and I need you to stop this insanity right now!"  
  
He touched the rim of lover's left eye, which was now all white. No iris. No pupil. It wasn't like this the night before.  
  
Figuring out what happened, Goten took Trunks' hand.  
  
"I'm OK."  
  
Trunks looked up at the ceiling. "Look, I have accepted your other decisions about your health, but I won't -- absolutely will not-- do it with this! You can't see out of that eye, can you? How did you think you could hide something like _this_ from me? You need to be with the doctors my mother gathered to help you."  
  
"I wasn't hiding it."  
  
"Shit, are you hearing yourself? You're losing your eyesight, Goten! I just can't believe this! No less than eight hours ago you asked me to share my feelings after suspecting that I was drunk -- which I wasn't -- and then this? There's no comparison."  
  
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to wait another day or so to discuss it, especially after you told me about being spending time with Vegeta."  
  
"You _leave_ my father out of this," Trunks snapped. "He would sound much less sympathetic than I do if someone he loved responded like you are now."  
  
"I'm sorry." Goten's head bowed. "I wasn't trying to hurt you. I…I…"  
  
"I know." Trunks brought him to his chest. "I know. Shhh. It's OK. Just because you hurt yourself before doesn't mean you must pay penance in this way -- or at all."  
  
They laid back down together. Trunks' eyes shut briefly as his phone rang. He picked it up without turning on the screen. Vegeta automatically knew something was wrong -- likely related to Goten -- but he wanted to give his son breathing room.  
  
"Hey, dad."  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"At home."

"Should you need me," he replied cautiously, "I will remain in the city all day."  
  
"Thanks, dad. I'm fine."  
  
"Lie to me again, boy, and I will come sing 'Truth Hurts' on top of your fancy skylight."  
  
Trunks chuckled, thankful for his father's dark humor. "Oh, god, you really hate me that much?"  
  
"More than you'll ever know." Vegeta held the phone to his chin. "I expect to hear from you later. Call your mother first though. Bye."  
  
"Bye."  
  



	7. Push Through the Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap from last chapter: Goten and Goku attempt to resolve their differences. Trunks and Goten begin their journey living together as committed partners, hoping for the best. Both struggle to define how that will work, considering that Goten has kept another secret affecting his health.

Bulla gave the brightest smile she could to her older brother. Outside of their father, he was the coolest person she knew. Pan ranked high on her list, of course, but they were peers. The men in her life had long been ready to handle the spitfire that she was. As much as she revered Vegeta, the 14-year-old was still her mother's daughter, right down to being the spitting image of Bulma. By age five, she showed far-above average intelligence, much like her parents and brother.  
  
Unlike with Trunks, though, Vegeta waited a bit longer before introducing her to the rigorous training they engaged in. Thus, like a piano teacher, he wanted to gauge her level of interest. At this age, she could go either way, both he and Bulma surmised. Bulla's aptitude and interest in the sciences seemed to be the path, and they were ready to accept that outcome. Her maturity could be hit or miss, like most Earth teenagers.   
  
Vegeta kept an understated, watchful eye on Pan, which others barely noticed. He was good at scrutiny anyway. Her grandmother, though, recognized the Saiyan's prince's intense observation when Pan threw punches and could never get enough of watching Vegeta and Goku spar, when both had the chance. Chi Chi and Vegeta recognized that Pan was a natural, like her father Gohan, as well as Goku -- and perhaps be a spectacular fighter. Yet Goku hadn't encouraged her interest, allowing childhood his sensei Master Roshi take the lead, which delighted the old man.   
  
Trunks flew head-on into his "favorite girls" playing around in a field beyond the estate's gardens.  
  
"Hi, smarty pants!"  
  
"Which one are you talking to?" Bulla asked playfully. "That could be either of us."  
  
"Of course it's the both of you." Trunks smiled, bending his knees to welcome their dual hugs and kisses. "I don't want my girls to be jealous for my affections. There's enough of me to go around."  
  
"Ugh!" Bulla rolled her eyes. "You can be so full of yourself sometimes."  
  
"So can you, princess." Trunks took her hand, kissing it like a charming duke. "I think mom and dad made sure that was on purpose."   
  
"I think you're right, Trunks," Pan chimed in impishly, "but that's OK. We still love them anyway."  
  
"Yeah." Trunks touched her cheek. "We do, don't we?" The girls glanced at each other, curious about his change in tone.  
  
"Did I say something wrong?" Pan asked, feeling uneasy.  
  
"No, doll face. Not at all. I've just had a long week. Don't mind me. Where's dad? I can't sense him."  
  
"Why don't you just do an energy spike?" Mimicking their father's typical suspicious look, Bulla's right brow arced. "That will get his attention, I'm sure."  
  
"Maybe." Trunks shrugged, eyes scanning the front of the gardens. "I'll find him."  
  
"How is Uncle Goten?" Pan crossed her arms, lifting a few inches off the ground. "He hasn't been to see dad and mom and me lately."   
  
Trunks smiled. "You don't trust me to take care of him?"  
  
Pan removed her bandana, staring at him. Clearly something wasn't right, but every man in their respective families grappled with the upsides and downsides of pride, including her wise, kind and often unflappable father. Though she and Bulla joked about all of them at times, Pan began to take the behavior more seriously, trying to understand it.  
  
"It's not about trust," she replied. "That's a given. Everyone knows that about you, Trunks. I asked you how my uncle is."  
  
Bulla looked uncomfortable with Pan's forthright interrogation, but Trunks knew better than to sugarcoat his response. The girl earned a complete an honest answer.  
  
"He's gaining his footing since we began living together, Pan. There's no perfect day in any relationship. We're getting him to manage his illness properly. It distorts how you see yourself, made worse by feelings already there. I know you're aware because he told me how proud he was of you -- because you spoke plainly, as you are now."  
  
"He's such a good person." Pan felt tears welling. Bulla held her hand, signaling to her brother that she would comfort her best friend properly.  
  
"Let's do this." Trunks kissed the tops of their heads, ruffling their hair. "We'll plan an outing -- just the four of us getting into trouble. Maybe we'll visit the nature preserve where we helped Krillin's brother-in-law care for animals when we were boys."  
  
"Oh, that would be so cool!" Bulla exclaimed. "No hurry though, but we'll _definitely_ remember."   
  
"I expect you to, princess. Look, I gotta go find dad. I love you much."  
  
"We love you too!!!" the girls shouted, waving goodbye.  
  
Using telepathy didn't deliver results, so Trunks decided to just guess. The estate had an elaborate system of underground tunnels where all sorts of special items were stored and protected. One of Vegeta's electronically concealed training rooms sat atop an entrance.  
  
Trunks' body appeared to dissolve into microscopic particles, reappearing within the protection dome surrounding the chamber. Floor tiles opened, followed by a cylindrical elevator, which he entered.  
  
He felt the low-level strumming of his father's ki signature. Vegeta knew he was there, he surmised. He flew through the winding passages wondering about the prince's mood, given where they were located. The uncloaked double doors opened, revealing a battle-suit clad Vegeta.  
  
"My, my." Trunks clapped his hands and whistled. "So mom finally gave you her surprise. Don't you look suave."  
  
"Bulma rarely disappoints." Vegeta blew on his fingernails. "There is no surprise _in that_."   
  
Trunks smiled. "Agreed. How are you?"  
  
Vegeta's eyes lingered on a display stand bearing a long-sword. A a blue spotlight shined overhead. The weapon's leather-bound hilt had the initials A.B. inscribed in cursive.  
  
"I'm fine, son." Vegeta put on his gloves, turning around. "I'm considering whether it's fair to keep Anisum's sword hidden like this."  
  
Trunks walked on the other side of the display. "Oh?"  
  
"The person who uses it must be trained properly, given that it's enchanted."  
  
"Yes." Trunks eyed the weapon. "Although I'm sure mom might accept this idea, it's clear to me that you're not ready to let go of it, dad."  
  
"That's precisely why I should, Trunks. I may have become _somewhat_ soppier at this age, but being sentimental over this subject benefits no one. Honor comes first. There will be someone worthy. Maybe you'll know before I will. Now it's my turn to ask how you are."  
  
"Look, I'm sorry about last week -- that we didn't go out as planned."  
  
"You are entitled to change your mind. If I get annoyed over it, which I wasn't, so be it. Vegeta had a glint in his eyes, purposefully sparking his son's interest. "Let's go."  
  
"No, no, no." Trunks hung back with his hands on his hips. "What are you up to?"  
  
"I'm rarely unprepared for a good fight." Vegeta removed a small tube hanging over the back of his ear, opening it. He held a white capsule between his thumb and forefinger. "Are you ready?"  
  
Trunks broke open the capsule containing a battle suit similar to Vegeta's. Father and son broke out laughing. Both realized how much closer they had become.  
  
"You mean you're never unprepared, you devil."  
  
"I take no credit for this one," Vegeta replied. "As I said, your mother never disappoints." 

* * *

  
Vegeta sat back, patting his now-full stomach. He and Trunks had devoured pieces of meat that were larger than their heads. Trunks had been nursing a glass of red wine, until downing all of it.  
  
"You know it will never be the right time, son. Not for something like this."  
  
"I know. I mean, I don't feel like I have to choose between Goten and this, but --"  
  
"There is no _but_ , Trunks. Spend as much time with me or Piccolo or whomever you prefer to train, but don't expect Goten not to struggle with this choice you're making, once you tell him. Now may not be the moment to go further."   
  
"I know it's not, dad."  
  
"Then when will you discuss it with him? You're forfeiting a settled life to follow my path."  
  
"I don't know when."  
  
"I have to say, I am concerned about what's happening to your confidence with this relationship."  
  
"I'm OK."  
  
Vegeta stood to collect their plates. "Hn. The way you gulped that wine tells me otherwise."  
  
"He's going blind in one eye."  
  
"What?!" Vegeta almost dropped the plates on the floor. "Do Kakarot and Chi Chi know?"  
  
"He doesn't want me to say anything."  
  
"That's preposterous! They can't be kept in the dark about this. How could you possibly expect me to find this appropriate? "  
  
"I knew you wouldn't before I told you," Trunks said quietly. "I have a bigger ask, actually. You can tell me 'no' if it's too much for you."  
  
"Let _me_ be the judge of that." Vegeta said abruptly. "I'm not exactly a fragile daisy."   
  
"No, you aren't." Trunks' eyes drifted away from him. "How much are… you struggling with your own depression, especially since Anisum's death?"  
  
Vegeta hadn't expected this. Maybe he should have. He ripped his soul open with Goku just to make a point. Doing it again in front of his boy -- that's what Trunks' hesitant expression reminded him of -- would be very hard, but it had to be done.  
  
"So you're asking me this because you see parallels between Goten and me?"  
  
"I didn't say that, dad."  
  
Vegeta returned to his seat as a robot brought coffee them. He rubbed his chin, holding the warm cup in silence to reflect. "I… told your mother that I wouldn't describe those bouts as 'depression' in the way earthlings see it."  
  
"Then what do you call it then?"  
  
"For me, there is no other way to describe than to call it a void, Trunks -- a desolate, unforgiving and lonely void. It made me self-destructive. It started in childhood. I was the perfect candidate because of what happened to me at the hands of Frieza. It doesn't erase other things I did though. I can't uphold the mantle of victimhood anymore."  
  
"I took it hard sometimes," Trunks replied. "Wondered if it was my fault when you seemed unhappy -- or were unhappy."  
  
"I know you did. I'm… sorry. Will you forgive me?"  
  
"I am so _proud_ to be your son." Trunks choked up, looking at the man who raised him. "I couldn't have a better friend to have my back at this point in my life."  
  
"Then I have done what I set out to do."  
  
"I think we should probably set some food aside for mom and Bulla."  
  
"We should, but before that, my advice is the same as Bulma's. You cannot care for Goten unless you care for yourself. Coming to discuss our relationship, knowing how I can be sometimes, was as wise as it is brave."  
  
Vegeta rose, with Trunks following suit, but he didn't pick up another plate. His breath seemed to leave his body as the sound of blood rushing through his ears became almost deafening. His hand caught the side of the table. He had to steady himself.   
  
Trunks frowned, touching his shoulder. "You all right? You're pale. Here, let me check your pulse."  
  
"Stop fretting over me." Vegeta shook his head, trying to sound as unbreakable as he felt he had to be. This couldn't happen. Not when his boy needed him. "Clearly I didn't eat…enough…"  
  
He body slumped forward, flipping the table upside down. Food splattered everywhere.  
  
"Shit!" Trunks dropped on the floor, feeling Vegeta's wrist for a pulse. "Dad! Can you hear me?"   
  
Bulla ran in first, followed by Pan, who covered her mouth in shock. Neither had seen Vegeta like _this_ before. Fighting was different.  
  
"Daddy! Trunks, what's wrong with him?! We gotta move him!"  
  
"No, _we don't_ , Bulla. Take a deep breath, hon. He only passed out. He will be OK."  
  
"But he's not fine, Trunks!" Full of fiery defiance, Bulla stomped over crying. "What are you doing?!"  
  
"Trust me." Trunks clutched her arm, staring hard into her eyes until she surrendered. "Look at me. I _know_ what I'm talking about. You see this?"   
  
Bulla moved back, recognizing the pencil-sized instrument in his hand. "Vital-sign gauge."   
  
"Right. I just checked dad's brain-wave activity, which is fine. His heart rate is up, but that's settling down too. Bring a pitcher of water, a glass and towel. Pan, can you pick up the table and plates?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Pan nodded, speedily undertaking her task.   
  
Vegeta murmured as his consciousness slowly returned. "I'm fine, brats."  
  
"Daddy?" Bulla felt his head. "I'm scared."  
  
"I said I'm all right, princess."  
  
"Do as I say, Bulla _, right now_." Trunks ordered. "We can ask questions later."   
  
"Listen to…to your brother, Bulla. I just need a few minutes."  
  
"Kami." Relieved, Trunks gripped Vegeta's hand. "Can you be a little less dramatic?"  
  
Vegeta sat up, trying to refocus his vision. "How long was the blackout?"  
  
"Long enough to scare the living shit out of us. I still think we should get you evaluated medically."  
  
"No."  
  
"Dad, please, enough with the pride --"  
  
"Be silent. We need to reassure your sister."  
  
Bulla hurried back, pitcher filled to the brim. "Here, daddy. Drink this. How are you feeling? What happened?"  
  
"I wasn't feeling well. At least I didn't puke."  
  
Pan giggled while Trunks covered his eyes. Bulla remained stone-faced.  
  
"This no time to joke!" she growled. "We need to find mom too."  
  
"You're a decent substitute," Vegeta wisecracked, then became deadly serious. "I want you to understand something right now. You have a responsibility, and you know _exactly_ what it is."  
  
Bulla pouted. "But daddy, you're being unfair."  
  
"Fine. Now you have _two things_ to repeat. Say them right now!"  
  
Bulla looked away, growing more frustrated. "Push through the pain."  
  
"And?"  
  
"You must be prepared for war in times of peace."   
  
"Follow your brother's example. Address the emergency first before allowing your feelings to take over -- or use your feelings to act decisively."  
  
"Hn." Bulla stood, hips shifting to one side. "Are you done lecturing me now?"  
  
Vegeta smirked. "You can go find Bulma now, young lady. Run along with her, Pan."  
  
"Yes, sir." Pan grasped Bulla's fingers. "He's in good hands, buddy. Let's go."  
  
Trunks waited until they skittered away, preparing for the next act. Vegeta sipped gingerly from the glass, expecting to be scolded by his son.  
  
"Did you really have to be Prince Vegeta IV -- universal pain to everyone around you -- at this moment? She was terrified."  
  
"She got off easy, Trunks, and you know it," Vegeta replied. "I'm surprised you're not jealous. I would have eaten you alive."  
  
Trunks sighed. "We need to know what caused this, dad. Just listen to me for once."  
  
"Stop, son. I've had these blackouts for years. They don’t happen often."  
  
"What?" Trunks sat back on his knees. "But how could I not know?"  
  
"Does it really matter?" Still feeling unsteady, Vegeta placed his arms upright on the floor.   
  
"I really hate it when you do this. Just answer the question. Is it like some late-onset epilepsy?"   
  
Vegeta said nothing. He knew their discussion triggered the episode. Trunks didn't need to hear that right now, not with everything happening with Goten. "You sound like your mother. Fine. I'll see our doctors for a physical -- despite not needing one -- to ease your mind."   
  
Bulma hurried in with the girls in tow. Vegeta's chin rose slightly to reassure her. Trunks' tight, uneasy mien exposed his newfound knowledge about the blackouts. She gently grasped Vegeta's arm as he rose, touching his face. She glimpsed a hint of sadness and shame in his eyes, until his face straightened.  
  
"He'll allow himself to been seen by the docs," Trunks said.  
  
"All right." Bulma took another cautious look at Vegeta. "We should go now."  
  
"I can speak for _myself_ ," Vegeta griped. "You both have seen me in much, much worse condition than this."  
  
Bulma and Trunks' eyes met. Vegeta spoke the truth, but neither preferred to be reminded of the worst moments.  
  
"Mom, we should all go." Bulla insisted. "What are you waiting for?"  
  
"No, _we shouldn't_ ," Bulma replied. "Just your father and me. You girls should have dinner. Trunks, can you stay a while longer? Will Goten be OK with it?"  
  
"Anything you want, mom -- and of course Goten will be fine with it."  
  
Bulma and Vegeta faced each other once they were out of hearing distance, holding hands on both sides. Bulma touched his forehead as they kissed.  
  
"How bad was it this time, you stubborn goat?"  
  
"Trunks said it wasn't that long. My head is still somewhat cloudy."  
  
"That's enough for me then. We still need to get you examined."  
  
"If you say so." Vegeta released her hands. "Only so we can be truthful with the children afterward that I'm all right."

"Do you…know what prompted the blackout this time?  
  
Vegeta lifted her chin, kissing her. "I'll tell you on our way there."  
  


* * *

  
Trunks opened a video call. Goten felt anxious about the blank, tired look on his lover's face. He laid a book he was perusing aside.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Dad passed out. Shook me bit. We were just having dinner. Talked a while. He fell soon after. Bulla freaked out, but dad appears to better now. Mom seems to have taken it in stride, but they went to get him checked out."  
  
" _Excuse me?_ How is he?"  
  
"He's had these episodes off and on for a while, apparently. I can't believe it."  
  
"Damn. I think I should come there. Reading wasn't too bad before you call. I can wear an eyepatch or something."  
  
Trunks didn't want to lash out, but Goten's response irritated him. He wanted him there, and yet this offer almost sounded like martyrdom. Maybe he was being oversensitive?   
  
His head turned away from the screen. "Are you ready for the world to know about your eye? Don't expect mom to take no for answer about treatment -- at least at first. You've had a week to decide, which in retrospect probably was too long. It's unhealthy for us to hide this from our families, for better or worse."   
  
"Do you want me to come or not, Trunks?" Goten appeared phlegmatic, though he was far from feeling unemotional. "I'm ready to deal with the making it known, even with the girls. It's probably best to start with them anyway, but right now you're upset about Vegeta. That's what we should be discussing."  
  
Trunks sighed. "Dad will be OK, man. Lectured my baby sister about war, of all things. Come in the morning for breakfast. We can all sit down together. Tell Gohan and Videl to join, along with your parents. Dad already knows. I needed…someone to talk with."  
  
"All right, and I understand."  
  
"I love you." Trunks rubbed his eyes, appearing wearier. "Finish that book, because I want to read it next."  
  
"Yeah, like in five minutes," Goten said, smiling. "It's taken me more than a year to get through this tome."  
  
"It's good that you've taken interest in it again."  
  
"I love you too. Promise you won't go cruising to, uh, relieve stress."   
  
"Cruising?" Trunks' roared with laughter. "Bite your tongue, good-looking. We're a bit too old for that. I only have eyes for you anyway -- but, um, we are overdue for a decent brunch at the waterfront to _observe_ the sights."  
  
"Old?" Goten replied. "Speak for yourself. We're not married yet."  
  
"See you in the morning, Goten."  
  
Breakfast was tense to say the least. Trunks and Goten, wearing his eyepatch, sat next to each other on the table's right side, holding hands. Pan and Bulla stood behind them. Chi Chi, who was crying, covered her face as Goku looked on. Bulma held her shoulders, whispering words to comfort her. Goten and Videl were positioned on the table's left side. Vegeta and Goku sat next to each other, across from their sons.  
  
"I have to say, Goten, I don't know how much longer any of us can take. I won't speak for anyone else here, but I can't watch you torture yourself anymore. And Trunks, I know you doing your best but ---"  
  
"Trunks _doesn't_ speak for me, dad. You can continue addressing me directly."  
  
"Look, I may not understand everything, son, but it seems like your treatment needs to be different. It's not helping you in the way it should."  
  
"Goku, darling, that's enough," Bulma interrupted. "We're going to step back from blaming anyone. Maybe his treatment does need to change some, but that's part of how this works."  
  
"I wish everyone would stop telling me how to father my son!"  
  
Goku stood, raising his hand. Bulma jumped back as her husband caught Goku's arm. Vegeta's eyes narrowed, sending a warning.  
  
"Not in our home, Kakarot. Not now. If you can't control yourself, leave until you can."  
  
"I can't believe you, Vegeta." Goku wanted to blow volcanic fire on him. "You have _never_ been father of the year, and you _damn well_ know why! I'm sick of you preaching at me. I'm also sick of your entire family rubbing it in my face that I can't provide for my own flesh and blood the way you believe you can."  
  
"Grandpa, please stop." Pan ran toward him, holding his arm. "That's not true."  
  
"Pan, move back," Vegeta said coolly. "Your grandfather is leaving. That's my final request."  
  
"Yes, sir," Pan said reluctantly, watching Goku storm out.   
  
Trunks arm tightened around Goten's shoulder. "Hey, you still with me?"  
  
"Yeah. Dad is entitled to be upset like everyone else. It's just going to take him longer."   
  
"I want to be with grandpa, mom," Pan said. "Can I go?"  
  
"I'm not sure if that's such a good idea," Videl said, seeking Gohan's opinion. "He's very upset."  
  
"It's fine, Videl," Gohan said, smiling. "She has a knack for cheering the grouchiest individuals. Go ahead, sweetheart, before you lose track of dad's ki."   
  
Pan ran outside, extending her eagle-like arms skyward. Bulla watched her leave.   
  
"I'm so, so sorry to you all," Chi Chi told Bulma and Vegeta. "Goku is just used to --"  
  
"Being able to fix things," Vegeta said. "We both are. It's not your duty to apologize."  
  
Bulma's attention returned to Goten. "There's a stem-cell procedure that may reverse the damage, based on how extensive it is. I wish we had the full scope of therapeutic support like your father and Vegeta had with the healing tanks, but because your eye problem is chemically related, the response will likely be different."  
  
"When can we get started?" Goten asked, reaching for Bulma's hands.  
  
Gohan, Videl and Chi Chi took turns hugging him. Trunks embraced his mother. No one saw Vegeta leave. Bulla re-entered the house. He stopped, allowing her to walk beside him.  
  
"You're following me because?"  
  
"Are you not feeling well again, dad? I know the doctors said you're all right, but I'm still worried about you."  
  
"Lie or truth?" His crooked half-smile brightened Bulla's worried face. "Pick one."   
  
She put her arm around his waist as they strolled together. "I guess it doesn't matter right now. I'm just glad to have you all to myself."   
  
"Your brother had the same weakness at your age. I suppose I can tolerate it again."

* * *

  
**Notes: I am so appreciative of the support I've received for this story. Thanks for your questions and "plot bunnies." They really are helping push this along. One thing I do want to address is Goku's portrayal. I agree with one reader who said he's used to winning and can't see a way out of this situation with Goten. In this, I don't see him as a terrible dad per se. Rather, I see him as genuinely afraid. He still has some immaturity to deal with, even as a longtime grandfather. He also must confront his own past. Vegeta has done that, and lives by it.**


	8. Skipping Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap from last chapter: Trunks visits his father to learn more about Vegeta's struggles with depression, triggering an unexpected stress-response blackout. After recovering, Vegeta admits that he's had them for years. Trunks and Goten later tell their families about blind eye, causing an upheaval leading to Goku's angry departure from the Briefs' home. Goten later decides to have an operation to try to restore sight fully.

**Report Period: 18 months  
**  
**Therapist:** Olive Puglia (Pilule Associates #1134)  
  
**Name:** Son Goten  
  
**Age:** 28  
  
**Birthdate:** August 26, Era 767  
  
**Primary diagnoses:** clinical depression with suicidal ideation, bouts of anxiety, and mild dissociative episodes, as well as post-traumatic stress. Self-esteem has been low. He also has permanent physical damage from his first-ever suicide attempt.  
  
**Education/Interests:** high school graduate; was trained extensively in martial arts and combat; likes reading; enjoys children.  
  
**Occupation(s):** freelance writing; has also held jobs involving animal-agricultural husbandry or conservation since finishing secondary school.  
  
**Clinical overview and concerns:** Goten's family comes from a humble background with a strong focus on tradition, spirituality, education, and structure enforced by the commanding yet extremely loving mother. The father-son relationship involved some childhood hero worship, which the father didn't always discourage. Goten said he and his older brother were largely self-effacing as kids, though he had more childhood fun with his best friend, Trunks. The men are now romantic partners, with family and friends "leaning in" to encourage them. Goten wants his strained father-son bond to improve. He's working hard in therapy to separate his self-worth from a standard that doesn't suit who he truly is. Though exceptional people surround him, logically, Goten knows they're imperfect.   
  
After speaking with Trunks last year, I see he is an affable, gifted young man with a generous spirit despite his family's wealth. His parents are highly intelligent, and as adults all three are close and defensive of each other, he says, though they have struggled together. The father had been military-style strict and emotionally distant at times, but he never abused his young son. Both parents had relationship friction early on, and were unmarried when Trunks was conceived. His love for them, and their deep love for him, kept his parents together as a couple. They also took great delight in teaching Trunks skills throughout his childhood. His maternal grandparents were kind and helpful to almost everyone.  
  
Still, Goten and Trunks experienced traumas that strongly shaped their views of themselves and what their futures hold. For them, there is no normal -- and never will be -- because of who they know, what they know, and where they came from.  
  
**Recommendations** : Goten made tremendous progress over the past year, despite occasional setbacks. Full restoration of his eyesight did help, but he must continue talk-therapy and take medicine to manage his depression and coping skills. ** _It's_ _also my strong belief that he remains at risk for trying suicide again if thrown off balance._**

* * *

  
  
"Overall, how would you describe your mood, Goten?"  
  
"I'm getting married in two weeks, Olive, so I'd say I'm all right."  
  
"I can't help but notice your flat response. Sounds like there's hesitation maybe?"  
  
Goten's holographic therapist had been programmed well by her creator: a psychiatrist at a small company bought by Capsule Corporation. Olive challenged him, angered him, and no achievement ever was too small to celebrate.  
  
"You should be used to not seeing me jump around like -- oh, I don't know -- _like a crazy person_ about most situations. I'm marrying my best friend almost two years after trying to kill myself. Of course I'm pleased about it."  
  
Olive frowned, tapping on her notepad. "You know how much I dislike `crazy.' The word is demeaning. It certainly doesn't apply to you."  
  
"You didn't use it. _I did._ There's no other word that fits other peoples' behavior sometimes -- and they may be considered relatively sane. I know a lot about that."  
  
A large window shade rose, warming the room as sunlight flowed in. Goten's attention was immediately drawn to tangled tree thickets lining the side of the road leading to the courtyard house where he first received treatment after leaving hospital. Now he traveled there twice a month for his therapy sessions.  
  
Olive glanced at the window. "Would you like to go outside for a walk and return?"  
  
"Yes, but I can do that later."  
  
"Do you miss staying here for treatment?"  
  
Goten nodded hesitantly, lowering his head. "You know, I imagine that Trunks would follow me to the farthest side of the universe if I asked him."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"As I said last month, he and Vegeta have grown even closer this year."  
  
"And?"  
  
" I…I think it has lot of that has to do with me -- for both of them -- or I guess I sort of feel that way."  
  
"Does that worry you?" Anticipating what he would do next, Olive's notepad disappeared. So did her image.  
  
"I'm not jealous, if _that's_ what you're implying."  
  
Goten patted his legs before standing -- an unconscious tic that belied his uncertain disagreement with her. He wanted a closer view of the goldfinches, which were poking around for seeds. He always liked these energetic songbirds. The red, white and gold-feathered heads looked like battle helmets.  
  
"I'm not implying anything," Olive said softly, reappearing beside him. "This is the second time you mentioned it in therapy. You might want to discuss it more."  
  
"About after my last session with you, I thought about calling off our wedding. All I wanted to do was return here -- to stay here."  
  
"Were you…feeling suicidal?"  
  
Before Goten could answer, an orange-and-black cat pranced inside the room, circling his legs. He placed her on his shoulder, following her impatient meow.  
  
"I guess Sheba missed me."  
  
"You're one of her favorites," Olive agreed, laughing. "As queen of the manor, she chooses her associates carefully."  
  
Goten's chin nuzzled in Sheba's fur as she batted his ear. "Before we got engaged four months ago, Trunks said he wanted to return to training and fighting, like his father. He would join the Galactic Patrol's Special Forces, going on missions whenever he, Vegeta, my father, or others are called on."   
  
"So that means he would have longer training cycles off-planet to get up to speed."  
  
"Yes, but those wouldn't happen straight away. Trunks says our first year of marriage should be focused on each other completely."  
  
"I'm hearing a lot more about what Trunks thinks. What do _you_ want, Goten?"  
  
"Not to lose him."  
  
"Why do you believe you'll lose him?"  
  
Sheba dropped from Goten's shoulder, perhaps sensing his discomfort. His jaw clenched as he opened the window. A gust blew his hair askew. A low-level rage intertwined within his laughter.   
  
"You know why! I shouldn't have to tell you this! At some point, full immersion in that life transforms you! It's… exhilarating. _I remember_. We're Saiyan -- the last of our kind in this universe. Vegeta breathes this like air. Of course Trunks would _finally_ be swayed by it! Duty, hard work, respect for _the thrill_ of the fight."  
  
"Goten, dear --"  
  
"No!" he yelled, limping around the room. Leaden, raspy breaths rattled from his chest. "I thought…thought you understood. Even my dad -- a free spirit if there ever was one -- is a disciple of that almost unlimited power that link offers. I'm not like them. I'll never be able to compete."  
  
Hearing the noise, two nurses approached an adjacent observation room. One checked Olive's status, considering whether to summon a flesh-and-blood doctor. Her program said the situation was under control, but also to monitor Goten's vital signs from a wristband he wore.   
  
His muttering evaporated as the room's lights dimmed. Olive's image vanished.  
  
"Listen to my voice," she said quietly. "You should lie down."  
  
Goten returned to the sectional, seating himself as it rearranged into a bed. Sheba climbed beside him, licking his face.  
  
"I'm sorry, Olive."   
  
"Getting married brings a lot of stress with it. You had to stop carrying that weight. No need to be sorry. I'm proud of you for acknowledging your feelings."  
  
Feeling fatigued, Goten buried his head into a pillow. "I don't know what to tell Trunks now. I said I'd be OK with this. He's not doing this just for Vegeta. It's what he's supposed to do."  
  
"I recommend that you stay here overnight," Olive suggested. "Just until you're feeling better. We can give you a small dose of anti-anxiety medicine now, and then we can have another session before you leave."  
  
"OK."  
  
"Do you want us to contact Trunks, or would you prefer calling him?"  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Bulma clasped her son's hand as they drove together. Trunks briefly touched the back of her head. His expression was a mélange of tight-lipped determination and concern. His mother faced forward, observing the hilly backwoods roads.   
  
"Sometimes you look so much like your dad."  
  
"Not with this hair color, mom."  
  
Bulma squealed laughing. "You could always dye it. I won't mind."  
  
"There's nothing I can do about my height either."  
  
"Please, don't _ever_ say that around my sweet husband. I still have to share a bed with him through _good_ and _bad_ moods. He can't help it that we're the same height."  
  
"Sweet?" Trunks snorted. "Hah! Dad would turn crimson from horror if you ever said that to anyone except for Bulla and me."  
  
"Deep down he really likes it, Trunks."  
  
"Yeah, mom. _Keep on believing that._ If the delusion helps you endure his unshaven face and non-manicured feet daily, then I fully support you."   
  
Bulma touched her chin. "Yeah, I guess I should remind him to shave -- or at least reject that emerging mustache he's trying to slip by us again. Yuk!"  
  
Trunks smiled. "Thanks for coming with me -- and not pressuring me to fly the plane."  
  
"I'm being selfish, Trunks. It's nice to have more time alone before you marry."  
  
Trunks glanced at her. "We're have about five miles left."  
  
"It's going to be fine, dear. Postponing the wedding for a month isn't going to ruin everything. It's not the end of your relationship."  
  
"No, it's not, but I shouldn't have rushed this. Neither of us should have. I mean, look at what happened. One night at Pinule has become an entire week for him. What if he sinks further with this relapse until they get him back on track?"  
  
"Trunks Brief, now you _listen_ to me." Bulma removed her sunglasses, delivering a rock-hard glare. "You must stop this. Maybe you should stay at Pinule a week and see how it feels _yourself_."   
  
Trunks felt his cheeks burning. Fighting with his mother wasn't high on his list.  
  
"Mom, come on --"  
  
"Stop talking and just listen, boy! Get off your high horse for a minute and stop seeing Goten as the _sick person_ in your partnership. Kami knows how life would have turned out if I did that with your father!"  
  
"Weren't you the one who said that there's no comparison, really, for your relationship with dad?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Sweetheart, Vegeta still leans _hard_ on my shoulders when he's feeling low. But you know what? I tell him to get up and walk. _Always_. Then I make myself walk beside him -- even when I'm scared, angry or lonely. I also say that I need him as much as he needs me."  
  
Trunks sighed. "Are you saying I'm not doing that?"  
  
"What I'm saying is you must see Goten _as your equal_. When I consider how much Vegeta has been through -- things he can barely bring himself to speak of now -- I also realized that his healing wouldn't come from me feeling sorry for him. I had to take care of myself too. I have always done that. I can't be a good wife otherwise."  
  
"Goten said something like that about you a while ago."  
  
"Are you listening now?"  
  
"Mom, I do hear you, but you had a purpose long before meeting dad. He relied on your knowledge -- and his will -- to _become_ great."  
  
"What are you trying to say, Trunks? That it's your job _to make_ Goten become great? Well if that's the case, yeah, you should _definitely_ wait to marry."  
  
Confused, Trunks glanced at her. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I don't always act selflessly, even with your dad. Never have, really. That's another reason why we're still together. He understands that about me as much as I do about him -- though we're willing to commit murder to protect each other."  
  
Trunks parked the car the cul-de-sac in front of the building. Bulma hugged him intensely. At that moment, he was still her little boy.  
  
"It's going to be all right, son -- whatever you both choose to do. We're all here for you."   
  
Trunks was unready to leave her embrace. He felt so blessed to have this wonderful woman in his life. Bulma let him go, gesturing at the doors.

"I think I know what triggered his episode, mom."  
  
"I do too," Bulma replied. "Goten is scared for you and himself. Each time Vegeta leaves on a mission -- and even training some far-off place -- my heart skips, thinking that he may not return. You haven't forgotten how that feels. Now I have to worry about both of my Saiyan men, but this is your calling in life. I just have to accept it."   
  
Trunks walked ahead while Bulma stayed back speak with workers. Goten was sitting in the rear garden with another patient, an older woman with a long, thick braid hanging down her back. He must have been joking because she all smiles. Trunks already knew that Goten was aware of his presence. The woman waved.  
  
"Hello, young man. My name is Sadie."  
  
"Hi there. I'm Trunks."  
  
"Oh I know who you are," Sadie said, grinning at Goten. "I'm glad you're here, and I'm leaving now."  
  
"No, please. Trunks touched her shoulder. "You don't have to leave just because I showed up. It appears he's doing a great job entertaining you." A jolt shot up his spine, making him dizzy until he moved back.  
  
Sensing Trunks' ki waver, Goten took hold of his wrist. "Hey, you all right?"  
  
"Yeah." Trunks smiled, attempting to shake off the strange shock. "Yes, I'm fine. I should have eaten more before we left!"  
  
Sadie's bright green eyes appeared sad, despite her friendly smile. "You are nice young men. I wish you the best, and don't take each other for granted."  
  
After Sadie left, Trunks looked back at Goten, who decided to answer the next question before he asked.  
  
"She's more ill than she appears, Trunks. But as you can see, she is very sweet. I can't say much more than that."  
  
"I understand," he replied, holding his arms out. "How about a hug? I was going into withdrawal without one this week."  
  
Goten smiled, embracing him. "I bet you were."   
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Taking new medicine. Makes me kind of sleepy. It will pass. Gohan visited on Wednesday. Stayed overnight. He got me to play poker. It helped. I won too."  
  
"Do you… need more time before coming home?"  
  
"That's the recommendation. Started out with rage and I've been losing track of time -- like being outside of my body. Wanted to hurt myself. I guess our wedding really is off for a while. My mother offered to move back into our old house with me when I leave here. It wouldn't be forever."  
  
"All right." Trunks felt his heart slump but then reflected on his parents' advice. "Do you feel like sitting together for a while? We don't have to talk anymore if you're not up to it. Mom is here too. We can just stay overnight if ---"  
  
"Just sit with me, please. The birds out here sound lovely at dusk. If you and Bulma could just listen with me for a while. I don't want to be alone tonight."  
  
Hearing Goten's invitation, Bulma entered with a pitcher of lemonade, placing it next to Trunks. She reached over to hug him. "Anything you want. _Anything._ Unlike what everyone else says, I do know how to be quiet sometimes."  
  
"Thank you for everything, both of you."  
  
Trunks held his mother's hand. "I do have a request, Goten."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Would you be willing to do some joint therapy sessions if I stay a few more days? We have one-of-a-kind experiences, and you have been right all along about me. I fell into the trap of trying to fix everything for us. I guess you have Goku and me to scold now."  
  
"That would mean so much to me." Goten touched Trunks' neck, kissing him. "I'll let my therapist do the backhanded scolding. She's tough, even for a hologram."  
  
Bulma seated herself, looking up at them. "Come on, boys. It's quiet time. You're drowning out the birds."  
  
Goten and Trunks sat on opposite sides, holding her hands.


	9. Honor These Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap from last chapter: Goten relapses and is hospitalized. He and Trunks faced a choice about how they would proceed.

Chi Chi fretted around the hearth before dashing faster than she should have to a small buffet table in the room's center. Then she smiled. How many times had the Son family seen her act this way?  
  
"Probably more times than Goku and Vegeta have thrown punches at each other," she muttered, forgetting that all Saiyans had above-average hearing.  
  
Gohan snuck over, hugging her from behind. "What did they do this time? Should there be an intervention for those two? Oooh, that red bean rice looks great! May I have a teeny bite of it please, mom? "  
  
Chi Chi smacked his hands. There was no way he would snack before anyone else did -- especially her.  
  
"No, you may not. Also, Bulma and I accepted years ago that intervention is futile. Now get away from my table before I set everything on fire. _I will do it_."   
  
Gohan laughed hard, taking her hands to waltz around the table. "I know you would, but that would break many hearts -- including two excited teenagers who get to be in their first wedding ever."  
  
"Trying to make me feel guilty won't work." Chi Chi waved a spoon at him, pretending to be outraged. Then her eyes filled with terror as a familiar voice bounced happily toward the front door.  
  
"Hey, guys! It's me!"  
  
Gohan looked like a deer in headlights while his mother went full hysterical.  
  
"Stop him, Gohan! What is he doing here now?! Why didn't you sense his ki? I thought Krillin and Roshi were keeping him busy?!"  
  
"How should I know?!" Gohan said as he rushed to lock the door. "Maybe he got bored, mom. I just wasn't paying attention!"   
  
"What's going on there, guys?" Goku asked. "Why is the door locked? Is this a joke?"  
  
"Uh, dad, you aren't allowed to see the future mother-in-law until the rest of the family arrives. It's an old tradition!"  
  
Goku scratched his head, attempting to peek through the closed shades. "I have never heard of that before."  
  
"Since when _are you_ the expert on weddings, Goku?!" Chi Chi hollered. "Just listen to your son. We're mixing new and old traditions here! Show some respect. Don't even think about teleporting in here either. There will be no forgiveness!"   
  
"OK, fine." Goku's eyes rolled. "You can stop yelling, Chi Chi -- and you both can stop lying. I'm not that stupid. It smells really good in there, and you don't want me to eat anything now."  
  
Gohan and Chi Chi glanced at each other again.  
  
"Stop being suspicious on your son's wedding day!" Chi Chi said. "It's bad luck! This is tradition!"   
  
Vegeta landed beside the hapless man, performing his semi-religious rite: the holy judgment of the crossed arms. Feeling peevish, Goku ignored him.  
  
"Honestly, Kakarot. I don't know what's worse -- that your family is desperately lying or seeing you loafing here like a lost puppy. It's beneath all of you."  
  
"Chill out," Goku huffed. "Must everything be some kind of etiquette judgment?"  
  
Vegeta smirked. "Aw, isn't that cute! You learned a new word. I must compliment my wife and yours for their educational achievement."   
  
Chi Chi yanked the curtain open, impatiently tapping the windowsill with her spoon. "Just get him out of here, Vegeta!!!"  
  
"Quiet, woman!" he barked. "Just let me have my fun. This fool will be dressed and ready soon. By the way, it does smell good from here. Nice job."  
  
"Humph." Chi Chi's chin rose with pride. "You should be used to this. By the way, your attire looks good too. It's how a father-in-law _should appear_ at a wedding. Now get my husband to do the same damn it!"   
  
Vegeta shook his head. "You sure picked a feisty one, grandpa -- and now Pan is following in her footsteps."  
  
"Don't even go there," Goku countered, "not with that smart-mouthed wife of yours -- and you're both older than me, in case you forgot."  
  
"Stop trying to bait me, Kakarot! We don’t have time to spar now. Haul your ass!"   
  
Four hours later, Krillin rushed around outside corralling friends and family who were still filling themselves with hors d'oeuvres as Vegeta, Goku, Trunks, and Goten arrived. Chi Chi and Bulma separated, moving next to their husbands, who visibly held hands with them, which everyone noticed. After everything their families had been through lately, none of them cared about being seen like this.  
  
Gohan and Bulla stepped forward, standing next to their brothers. Pan stood beside her father. Bulla in particular had become emotional. Tears fell as she looked at her dad, who nodded his reassurance to her.  
  
Dressed in a long monk's robe, Krillin stood in the middle underneath a simple wooden arch -- the same Gohan and Videl had at their wedding.  
  
Trunks and his father were dressed in formal dark blue uniforms, with the royal house of Vegetasei's red crest embossed on their right sleeves. Anisum's sword was sheathed on his right-side hip. Crisp white gloves covered their hands.  
  
Goku, Goten and Gohan wore taut white shirts without collars, and black gloves. Thin streaks of black embroidery decorated the front. The Son family's crest, also in black and white, was sewn onto the back.   
  
Krillin's palm lifted. "This ceremony represents the union of traditions and legacies. Where there is love -- true love in all forms -- enlightenment can follow, if the way is sought for a higher purpose. Will the parents stand please?"  
  
Trunks and Goten faced forward, each bowing to the other's parents, to honor and thank them. They followed by bowing to the guests, and then to each other.  
  
Krillin held up two fingers, bowing to them. "These families are now joined in their devotion and strength between them, as well as love. May every struggle they face together fortify their bond. Goten and Trunks, remember to protect the life-force of your union, in good times and bad ones, and be mindful of your oaths."  
  
Bulla and Gohan handed the wedding bands to their brothers. Pan stood in front, holding ribbon to wrap around their wrists after the rings were exchanged.  
  
With tears in his eyes, Krillin's hand rose again. "Before you recite your vows, I believe I speak for everyone here by saying we're so very proud of you. Watching you grow up influenced my desire to be a dad, so I must thank you as well."  
  
Trunks and Goten appeared serene as they exchanged rings. Goten's right brow cocked, making it clear that he expected his smiling partner to begin.   
  
"Son Goten, I promise to honor these vows we make today, whether near or far. I recognize the offering you’re making by choosing a life partner who serves another cause born of duty, tradition, instinct, power, and service. There is no greater fortune than sharing the love I've always wanted in my life with my best friend."  
  
"Trunks Brief, it’s… clear now that I can't stay out of trouble with you in my life. It's a good trouble, of course, that gets me up in the morning to smack my lover in the head for fun -- or spirit our mothers away before our dads to give them grief. I don't fear being apart from or being with you anymore, because of the commitment I made be my true self. Your love helped me see what was possible, as well as our families. I accept the vows you've made today because I have as much faith in you as you have in me."  
  
"Let no one attempt to tear this bond," Pan said, tying the ribbon on their wrists.  
  
Trunks and Goten's foreheads touched as the guests clapped and cheered.  
  
"Holy freaking shit, man," Trunks whispered, kissing him. "We did it. Congratulations. I love you."  
  
"You bet your sexy ass we did," Goten replied. "Congratulations, and I love you."  
  
Vegeta stood aside as Bulma and the others rushed to hug and shake hands with the newly married couple. Goku looked back twice before leaving the crowd.   
  
"Has the terrifying reality set in that we're family now?" he joked with a bulky grin.  
  
"Shut up, _idiot_." Annoyed, Vegeta flared his nostrils. "Just be quiet."  
  
Goku stared at the arch. Vegeta had been in a fairly pleasant mood earlier --- for him -- so this reserved reaction concerned Goku.  
  
"Will you tell me what's up, Vegeta? You're acting strange, especially now."  
  
Also curious about Vegeta's behavior, Trunks whispered to Gohan and Bulma to push guests to leave for the reception at the Brief family's home. After handing the sword to Pan, he jogged down the main aisle until an unshakable heaviness gripped his legs. His knees buckled as he felt the same dizziness after touching the old woman, Sadie, when Goten was hospitalized.  
  
Goku and Vegeta's heads snapped up as Trunks' ki spiked and then sank. His eyes glazed over as his legs gave out. His lungs felt like they were drowning in blood.  
  
"Dad… please help me," he gurgled.   
  
"What's happening?!" a horrified Vegeta cried out as his son fell. "Not now!" Both he and Goku sped to the young man's side.  
  
Trunks' weak plea faded as unconsciousness settled in. "Help… me, dad. Please, don't leave."  
  
"I'm right here," Vegeta said, holding his son's head. "I won't let _anything_ happen to you. Now you listen to me, boy. This is a direct order. We're not in battle together yet. You need more time to prepare with me, all right? You need a lot more time."  
  
The thought of losing Trunks on the happiest day of his son's life was almost too much to bear. If there was anyone who deserved this joy, it was his boy. Goku watched Vegeta without being too obvious. Neither could afford him melting down now, but Goku also knew the prince likely deserved more credit. 

Videl ran next to her husband, grabbing Pan and Bulla's collars almost as fast as any full-blooded Saiyan would. "Girls, do _as I say_ right now! No back talk! You let them handle it. We don't know what this is about."   
  
She felt terrible for yelling, with this being the third time the girls experienced a scare like this within their families over the past two years. Yet there were other horrors she hoped Pan and Bulla would never, ever be forced to witness.   
  
Though in complete shock, Goten and Gohan had the presence of mind to hold Bulma and Chi Chi back from the rapidly unfolding scene too.  
  
"That's my son!" Bulma's shoes flew off as she kicked in vain. "Vegeta, what's happening down there?! Damn you, Gohan! Let me go right now!"  
  
"Hey now," Gohan whispered quietly to her. "Remember our path, Bulma. We almost lost each other many times, but we're still together. Think about the vows we just heard. Don't forget how the boys fought like men when they were little, risking their lives like the rest of us."  
  
"You too," Bulma said, breathing heavily as he hugged her. "You too, Gohan. Especially you."  
  
"Yes, me too," he replied. "Me too."  
  
"Don't question me, either of you," Piccolo commanded, landing in front of Vegeta and Goku. "We must get Trunks to Dende's Lookout now."  
  
A younger Vegeta probably would have blown a furious gasket at being ordered without an explanation, but he complied instead. The loss of his other son still burned fresh on his mind. He looked down at Trunks as all four vanished.   
  
Logically, both families accepted that death would never venture far from them because of the lives they chose. They were fighters -- every single one -- for better and worse. But for one day, until right then, they believed these responsibilities could be set aside to revel in the joy of just being together.   
  



	10. Vengeance Is Ours, Dear Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trunks collapses shortly after his and Goten's joyous wedding, sending everyone into a tailspin about his condition.

Dende covered Trunks' legs and torso with the first layer of his robe. The young man had waves of the rigors, shaking and sweating as his fever spiked. Vegeta and Goku looked on, both feeling helpless and yet somewhat relieved that Trunks had regained partial consciousness. Dende's soft hands on his shoulder and arm felt soothing. To conserve Trunks' strength, he chose to speak telepathically.  
  
 _"Don't try to talk. I'm working to stabilize your condition. Then your mortal doctors can take the lead after that. I have never known anything like this happening to Saiyans, now that I'm aware of your people's history. You're very ill. This isn't something Goku and Vegeta could have used their powers to help with."_  
  
 _"I'm human too."_ Trunks said, closing his eyes to focus. _"Do you know why this happened?"  
  
_ Dende smiled. _"Yes, I have not forgotten. We'll figure out the rest."  
  
_ "What are you smiling about?" Vegeta asked, attempting to control his growing impatience. "Tell us."  
  
 _"My father is scared, Dende. I feel so much of it. Tell him I will be fine."  
  
"We don't know that, Trunks. I will not lie. Just focus on the energy you're receiving from me. We'll get your husband here soon as well."   
_  
Dende looked up, waving for Vegeta and Goku to come closer. "He's responding to telepathy but must now conserve his energy as I share my healing power with him. He is particularly concerned about you, Vegeta."  
  
Vegeta kneeled by his son's side, gripping his hand. "I am…the least of your worries. Keep Goten, your mother and sister on your mind. Besides, you and I both knew…knew…"  
  
Vegeta's voice trailed off as he recalled Trunks' pledge. His son could have been killed in battle at any time. Indeed, he was extremely proud that Trunks' fighting spirit would be realized. As much he loved him, he accepted this as an appropriate path. His own wife didn't push back, offering understanding to them both. unlike some mothers would. Yet how could the possibility of losing this son now shake the core of his soul so badly? Reality doesn't cloud one's path. Denial does. Watching Anisum die was terrible enough. He wasn't ready for this either. Maybe he never would be.  
  
"This is no time for second thoughts or doubt," Piccolo said. Even now, the Saiyan prince didn't always recognize how well he knew him. "There is only the _here_ and _now_ , Vegeta."   
  
Vegeta glared hard at him. "If Gohan were in this position, you _might_ think differently."  
  
Trunks coughed as he tried to control his breathing. He couldn't let this pass. His voice entered Vegeta's mind loud and clear.  
  
 _"Dad. It's OK. Tell Goten I love him."  
_  
Vegeta felt his forehead. "You _can tell him yourself when you're better, son. Your mother and I didn't teach you to give up easily."  
  
"I love you too."  
  
_Vegeta nodded wearily. _"You're great at demonstrating that to me each day."  
  
_ Piccolo's somber gaze turned to Dende as Bulma, Chi Chi, Goten and Gohan arrived at the lookout. Goku managed to teleport them there all at once. Chi Chi held Goten's arm as they kneeled beside Trunks, across from Vegeta. Bulma took her husband's free hand. Goku's patted Goten's shoulder as Piccolo's serious gaze settled on them both.  
  
"Dende's support has helped so far, Goten," Piccolo said. "We can probably get Trunks back to your doctors soon. He would have died had we waited."  
  
Bulma tried to attract Vegeta's attention, but his brooding only deepened. His focus stayed on Trunks' unsettled breaths, hoping that the fever wouldn't spike again soon. Bulma didn't say anything as his hand slipped beneath the blanket, feeling Trunks' clammy torso. Even without seeing it, Vegeta knew a rash was there, and Trunks' spleen was enlarged.   
  
"Piccolo, you know something," Goten said, holding Trunks' hand. "We may all be upset but I see it clearly."  
  
"I'm not surprised." He gestured at Dende, whose walking staff tapped twice on the Lookout's ornamental floor. "Even as children, your bond with each other was unrivaled."  
  
"Get on with whatever you're going to do, Namekian," Vegeta commanded. "We appreciate what you both have done here, but we can't stay much longer with our son in this condition."  
  
"Just give them some time," Goku said. "Dende has done a good job here."   
  
The staff's tip landed between two elaborate pictograms, opening a hazy image that gradually cleared. Anisum, Piccolo, Gohan, Goku and Vegeta were fighting on a barely habitable planet. Vegeta executed their enemy with surgical precision, feeling nothing as the defeated creature screeched venom over the extinct Saiyan race.  
  
An almost-disturbing coldness swept over Vegeta's presence as he watched -- so much so that everyone recognized it. Goten glanced at his father, whose expression also darkened momentarily.  
  
"Why are you showing this?" Goku asked. "What does this have to do with Trunks?"  
  
"Though we defeated Dr. Lychee on the Dark Planet, I think he still found a way to get to you, Vegeta."  
  
Bulma face color changed to a sickly gray as she wiped Trunks' clammy forehead. Her hearing shut down as Goten held on to her back.  
  
"No more," she mumbled. "My baby never hurt anyone. He just wanted to fight to do good. I accepted that, but this isn't his fight, Vegeta. It's not his fight."  
  
"He _will_ do good," Goten said, hoping to reassure her. "This will pass. That's what my husband probably thought before we got here."  
  
He tried not to overthink the situation, but a split between Vegeta and Bulma would be god-awful. He needed everyone's support right now.  
  
"You are grasping at a bunch of nothing!" Vegeta said, directing his wrath at Piccolo. He absolutely couldn't have his wife go down like this. "You're… you're distraught, Bulma. It's OK. There's no connection to anything that happened with that lunatic Lychee. The Tuffle scourge ended that day when I blew that son of a bitch to kingdom come."   
  
"You and I both know that the threat of another bio-engineered Tuffle attack never completely disappeared," Piccolo insisted. "Vengeance drove an intelligent, determined race to pursue those like you after _their own_ deaths."  
  
Vegeta could respond, deflect, or ignore the statement. Curiosity was a lifeblood of everyone's personality in this group -- especially his wife's -- so he had to cut his losses.  
  
"Get us to the medical unit, Kakarot. We mustn't wait longer. Bulma and Goten come with us."  
  
"Of course," Goku said. "No problem."  
  
"Vegeta is right," Dende agreed. "I have done just enough to be useful to Trunks."  
  
Gohan and his mother approached Piccolo as the others left, seeking more explanation.  
  
"Can you try to be less puzzling please?" Chi Chi asked. "How is that fight on the Dark Planet related to Trunks' condition?"  
  
"I believe he's ill with the same affliction that eventually killed Anisum."  
  
Gohan blinked, recalling memories of that battle down to the smallest details. His mind was almost encyclopedic -- and though he was boy then, there wasn't much that he _didn't_ notice.  
  
"But…but how? Trunks was an infant during that battle."  
  
Piccolo draped his shawl over his shoulders, piecing his own memories together. Earth had been more vulnerable to attacks at that time compared with now. Its protectors had many successes over several millennia -- and tragedies, yet the planet still managed to remain. What Piccolo found most interesting about Tuffles was their _patience_ , exemplified by Dr. Lychee, the partially reconstituted scientist who attacked them. This long-dead man's invention _solely_ existed to take revenge on the Saiyan-Tuffle war's victors. The creation became sentient out in space, on a vacant planet, rebuilding on top of itself across decades to increase its power. Its scouts roamed the universe, collecting information.  
  
Then it waited.  
  
Earth was a way station as this mutant prepared its ultimate assault. Vegeta's existence was known, and the time was right to strike. Destroying the other Saiyans on Earth was important, but murdering the Saiyan prince would be the supreme win. As it attacked, Dr. Lychee's mechanized oeuvre watched Vegeta stridently shout "Son, over here!" at a lavender-haired youngster fighting with the others. Soon after, Anisum received a short-range direct hit from a plasma beam, which he quickly recovered from. The mechanism that delivered it self-destructed as soon as contact was made.  
  
"What better way to ensure one's revenge than by murdering Vegeta's heirs, Gohan? Even more, destroying those sons' future relationships adds to the heartache."  
  
"Piccolo, you're still not telling us how this could happen," Chi Chi interrupted, though she became unsure about hearing more. "We can finish sorting this out at the medical center. My son needs us now, and I'm sure Bulma would appreciate having another mother there with her."  
  
"Wait, mom," Gohan continued, holding her arm. "I think Piccolo's saying that Lychee's machine-mutant freak somehow caused Anisum's illness -- and Trunks has developed it too."  
  
Piccolo's theory strained Chi Chi's credulity. Worse, how would Goten handle all of this? She didn't expect her son to fall apart, but seeing his renewed confidence gave her hope. Unlike Goku, she refused to sink into jealousy over their son's close connection with Bulma's family. She also spent more time with Goten, trying to understand the source of his pain. They embraced as he described how he felt that day on the mountain when he poisoned himself. Intuitively, she asked what he heard:  
  
******  
 _"I guess something like a flute, mom. It was really soft."  
  
"A comfort spirit joined you." _Tears fell from Chi Chi's eyes as they held hands. _"It came to escort you."  
  
"I remembered what grandfather said."  
  
"Oh, honey. Don't you realize how special you are?"  
  
"Mom --"  
  
"No, Goten. Don't give in to doubt. Our family has shown strength that others could only imagine or hope for, and yet a gentle and quiet spirit joined you. That is a gift of respect and protection." _  
  
_"I imagine some of that metaphysical support is tied to dad."  
  
"Perhaps, but your father came from humble beginnings, just like me. His early life was a spiritual journey from within -- with bumps along the way. Those who trained him saw that and wanted him to succeed as a whole person. Maybe the support of which you speak comes from higher powers seeing the same pureness Goku once had shining within you, in spite of your belief that your life had no meaning."   
  
"Once had?" _ Goten released her hands. _"What do you mean?"_  
  
Chi Chi spoke plainly, showing no anger. Goku's pureness attracted her the most when they were youngsters, as well as his tenacity. Resentment festered in their marriage, showing up in other ways, because of fear that his passions would undermine the best in him. Believing a simpler life could preserve that and harshly trying to enforce it created a wedge between them.   
  
Goku also had to live with choices that alienated the same family and friends who loved him, she felt. He hadn't fully grown up. Of course there was much to admire, especially his bravery. He had risked his life to save others, and gained the respect and admiration of _gods_ and _mortals_ across the multiverse. His desires had also endangered others at times, though not maliciously. Chi Chi recognized that his passions might never be entirely connected to purest side of him ever again. Still, she felt sad because Goku's internal struggle over Goten's behavior clearly came from shame.  
  
She felt none.  
  
 _"Focus on the best in you, Goten, as others have,"_ she replied, directing her gaze on lush valley below. _"Don't feel like you can't come to me, ever, when you're hurting."_  
  
******  
  
"Neither one of you is making sense."  
  
"Vegeta is many things, Chi Chi, but unfocused isn't one," Piccolo said curtly. "Did you not just see what happened when I pressed him? _He knows_. Recall his reaction when Trunks collapsed at the wedding."  
  
"How do you know so much about Anisum's illness?" Gohan asked. "Neither Vegeta nor Bulma shared those details."  
  
"The Z sword called to me. I don't know why Dende, Supreme Kai Shin or Old Kai weren't chosen, but I saw the progression of the illness that killed Anisum in a vision, and Vegeta's final moments with him."  
  
"If Trunks is suffering from the same thing, then there's absolutely no coincidence." A furious pall clouded Gohan's face. "He's been in danger all along -- and maybe so have the rest of us."  
  
"They need us," Chi Chi said, steeling herself for the worst. "They really need us."  
  



	11. All Is Not Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From last chapter: Speculation about the nature and cause of Trunks' condition is causing tension between the people who care for him.

Gohan felt like they had dropped into the middle of a raging tornado as soon as they arrived at the medical center. Videl and her father appeared like the fighters they were -- ready to enter the ring and go at it. His daughter stood as straight as an oak tree, solidly staring down her enraged best friend. Bulla had been told to wait to see her brother, and she wasn't having any of it.  
  
"Can't you see, Pan?! Everyone is treating us like hysterical girls! _We're not._ We don't need to submit all the time! Saiyan or not, none of the men are perfect. Look around. My dad preaches to me about being strong and smart, and I can't even be trusted to see my own brother yet when he's sick!"  
  
No one replied as a slow-moving muscular shadow approached from the rear. Vegeta's shirt was unbuttoned at the top, with his tie hanging over his neck. He paused, observing her.  
  
"That's enough, Bulla," he said sternly. "Your concerns have been heard."  
  
Bulla's jaw jutted rebelliously as she confronted her father. "So what are you going to say now, daddy? Did I make _another_ mistake by not sensing your ki? I guess I'm letting my _silly_ emotions take over?"  
  
"I believe every adult here will agree that those intense emotions you speak of set us apart from most others _as an entire family_. It's about how they're used -- and you're right, we are _quite_ imperfect."  
  
Vegeta didn't look all that well himself, Gohan thought. Now was the time to divert the conversation. "How are my brother and Bulma? Are they in a room with Trunks?"  
  
"Kakarot too," Vegeta replied. "Go with Bulla. Trunks is under an oxygen tent. He has pneumonia."  
  
"This happened so fast," Chi Chi gasped. "He was fine before the wedding."  
  
Vegeta gently brushed his thumb over Bulla's cheek. "Don't stay long. Until we get a handle on things, we must limit our contact. I know this is hard on you, but Trunks is very, very sick. Bulma and Goten should be with him the most for now."  
  
"I'm… I'm sorry, daddy. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Are you going to be OK?"  
  
"You don't have to worry about that, princess," Vegeta said, serving up a cocky smirk. "I'm a big boy."  
  
Hercule poured water, offering it to him. "Hey, um, Vegeta, I know you prefer to sort through stuff on your own when you're upset sometimes."  
  
"That's right. I do."  
  
"I mean, we're all family now, like you said," Hercule continued, convincing him to take the glass. "I mean, you were there for Trunks and everybody when Goten, uh, was in the hospital."   
  
Nothing the old wrestler said offended Vegeta, but there had been too much activity. He just needed more breathing room and less talking.  
  
"All of you should go home. There's nothing more you can do for now."  
  
Goku walked beside Chi Chi, touching her back. ""Give Vegeta his space, guys. Let's go."  
  
Afterward, Vegeta headed for a quiet room -- one with lock -- to withdraw deep inside of himself. His teeth clenched, sensing an unwelcome presence long before reaching the door.  
  
"You should go, Namekian."  
  
"Not until we talk," PIccolo replied.  
  
"Oh?" Vegeta's arms folded over his chest. "If you're back to share more conspiracy theories, then I'm not interested."  
  
"You are an anchor in your family now, Vegeta. If Trunks dies -- like this -- it could consume you."  
  
"My son won't die, and I am _no_ weakling."  
  
"No one doubts that, Saiyan -- not since the day you stepped foot on Earth. I certainly never have."  
  
"Leave me." Vegeta felt heavy pressure in his lungs. He couldn't take much more talking. "I don't want to hear any more about Tuffles. They weren't as virtuous as you assume just because they hated my people. Our dead races are... forgotten history now."  
  
"I assume nothing." Piccolo wrapped his shawl over his shoulders. His long stride didn't take long to reach the door. "I want you to understand something. If you cannot bring yourself to find who did this to Trunks, then I will. No one will judge you, especially not me."  
  
Piccolo lowered his head, placing his giant hand on the prince's shoulder. He kept it brief.  
  
Vegeta's lengthy, vacant gaze focused on a large chair. "I can always count on you to be brutally honest -- perhaps one step below a Saiyan warrior such as myself, or my wife."  
  
"I'm honored that your haughty opinion of me _almost_ meets your outrageous expectations."  
  
Vegeta exhaled, moving away from him. "Why do you feel compelled to do this, Piccolo?"  
  
"Because the sword spoke to me, and the good man who wielded it wouldn't bear seeing his father pained by this. Neither would his namesake."

* * *

  
Bulma's wedding attire, now covered by a starched lab coat, was a wrinkled mess. Windswept hair strands flowed from what had been a tight bun. Her heels had been replaced with a thick pair of hospital clogs. Goten wore scrubs and a face mask. Now that Trunks' condition had been stabilized, they couldn't touch him, not until his breathing improved underneath the tent. Bulla and Gohan had left after seeing them.  
  
"I'm so sorry that this happened on your wedding day. It was just so special."  
  
Goten smiled, holding Bulma's hand. "And it always will be. Everyone there made it a wonderful day."  
  
"Until this."  
  
"Since when have we let illnesses, near-death experiences, surly gods, know-it-all idiots, and every bloodthirsty psychopath in the known universe stop us before?"  
  
Bulma lightly smacked the back of his head. "You actually sound like your dad now."  
  
"Sure I do. We still share some goofy similarities. Speaking of fathers, shouldn't Vegeta be back here by now?"  
  
Bulma sat next to Trunks' bed, reading his patient chart. The question seemed to go in one ear and right out of the other.  
  
"Did you hear me, Bulma?"  
  
"Yes, dear."  
  
"Maybe I should go find him then."  
  
"No, you _shouldn't_." Bulma frowned as she looked back. "Let him be."  
  
As a newly married man, Goten wasn't inclined to offer much comment _up front_ to his mother-in-law about her relationship with Vegeta. Though he was still somewhat in shock from the day's events, he also took Piccolo's words seriously. In the moment, though, he had to stay focused solely on Trunks _and_ remain sane throughout it all. Others in the family were well equipped at investigating.  
  
"All right."  
  
"Don't take my tone personally." Bulma said, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'm just tired."  
  
Goten fiddled with his wedding ring. _Oh, the hell with it. No time like the present.  
  
_ "You believe what Piccolo said then?"  
  
"I'm not sure yet, Goten. All I know is Trunks' condition and symptoms are a spot-on match to Anisum's illness, though this onset appears to be much quicker and more severe. Anisum was already in his forties. His health deteriorated over a longer period, from what Vegeta told me. I'm almost ninety-nine percent sure that this is some kind of a blood-cancer variant. The tests should be back soon."  
  
"All of it is just so disturbing. I wonder if Trunks hadn't been feeling well for a while."  
  
"He would have told you." Bulma felt assured of this. "It's unlikely that you wouldn't have noticed."  
  
"Bulma, if you didn't _somewhat_ believe Piccolo -- that this might be a Tuffle assault -- maybe you wouldn't be pushing Vegeta away now."  
  
"Really?" Bulma's chair swiveled around. "Do you believe we would be married if I hadn't accepted that Vegeta's mere _existence_ would be nectar for demented assholes seeking revenge? Exhibit A: Frieza."  
  
"But --"  
  
"Oh, but nothing." Bulma's lips contracted into a thin line. "Just stop this right now and sit in this chair. You should be the first person Trunks sees if his eyes open again."  
  
"When his eyes open, Dr. Brief, _not if_."  
  
"Yes, of course," she replied, hugging him. "I misspoke."  
  
"Are you going to find my new father-in-law?"  
  
"Yes, since you won't let this go," Bulma sighed, glancing at her son's bed again. "My husband and I are a team, just like you and Trunks are. Are you calling Chi Chi later?"   
  
"Definitely. You know how mom is. Rules are rules. She won't try to burst in to take charge over everything as long as you're on the job. When you're not, then she'll be here."   
  
Goten's eyes shut as Bulma left. Anxiety would not take control. He knew what he was getting into -- much like his in-laws: Tomorrow is never promised. Live your best life with the time you have.  
  
"Go…ten."  
  
"No, no. Trunks," Goten said, touching the tent. "Don't try to talk. We'll likely have to put you on a machine soon if your breathing doesn't improve. Dende did a lot to help before we got here, but we just don't know about the rest. You have pneumonia."  
  
Trunks blinked lethargically, staring at his husband's wobbly double image. He remembered Dende speaking to him at the Lookout but not much after that. Even being this sick, and possibly getting worse, he wasn't frightened for himself. He wanted to know how this happened -- and if others were in danger. His gaze drifted until his eyes closed. Maybe he could figure it out before losing consciousness again.  
  
Goten held the bedrail. "We still have a honeymoon to take, lover boy. Like I always say, your family is _full_ of drama queens -- or maybe it really is just you. But there is no other queen in this world that I would rather spend the rest of my life with more than you."  
  
_"Good…to know."_  
  
Goten's head lifted, eyeing him. "What did I say about _not_ talking? That means telepathy too. I know you can't wait to get into bed with me -- because I'm that irresistible -- but we have other concerns."  
  
Trunks knew he wouldn't stay awake much longer, but he couldn't leave his husband without a good memory, especially if he died that night. The corner of his mouth curled weakly into a smirk.  
  
Goten quietly chuckled at his husband's championship-level stubbornness. "I know what you're doing. Oh, if Vegeta could see this now. You're almost like twins when you do that. I'll be…OK."  
  


* * *

  
Bulma knocked on the door, assuming it was locked. The more people around -- including the staff -- the less Vegeta desired to be cornered by anyone unless he had a direct way out.  
  
"Can you hear me? May I come in?"  
  
"I heard you breathing about a mile down the hall." Vegeta opened the door, appearing even scruffier than he did earlier -- unsurprising to his wife. "Don't stand there all day."  
  
Bulma handed him two capsules, attracting his scrutiny. "Seriously? You're suspicious over this? Trust me, it's too late in our relationship to consider slaughtering you. I'm stuck with what I have."  
  
"I always knew the day would come when you finally admitted defeat."  
  
He broke open a capsule containing sweat clothes and sneakers -- a great relief. He presumed the other had a meal since no one actually had a chance to eat since the pre-wedding reception. But he wouldn't eat anything until his wife had food first, which he knew she hadn't. His eyes were downcast. Her reaction at the Lookout was so distant. He felt accused of doing something wrong, which he hadn't.  
  
Bulma held her arms out to him. "Why don't you start with thank you? How many times do I have to remind you about good manners?"  
  
Vegeta didn't have anything pithy to say. Bulma kissed him as they embraced. He held on to her like they had almost lost each other. Bulma didn't expect to cry, but it happened when she felt fear in her husband's heart that he sometimes couldn't express. They argued all the time, but deep down he still wondered what the tipping point would be for her to stop loving him altogether.  
  
"I'm sorry, Bulma."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"That I couldn't protect them. This is my fault."  
  
"I think they would both disagree wholeheartedly."  
  
"And you? I saw how you looked at me when Piccolo spoke."  
  
"I was scared -- and angry, yes, but I know none of this is your fault. You weren't even born yet when the Tuffles fought the Saiyans. I guess it's just harder when the enemy isn't grinning in your face anymore, going on full-frontal attack."  
  
Vegeta moved back, holding her shoulders. "I need you to stay hopeful with me. We'll do every possible thing to keep him with us."  
  
"He's married now, Vegeta. That decision doesn't solely belong to us anymore."  
  
"That doesn't mean we give up our rights as parents."  
  
Bulma exhaled, locking hands with him. "Now listen to me good. Set aside whatever guilt _you feel_. The rules don't change. If Trunks were in battle, the choice would still be left to him and Goten if he couldn't recover from injuries without a lot a hardship or were in a vegetative state. Of course we would be consulted, but Trunks was barely five when he tried to understand those same expectations with you."  
  
"We were both quite knowledgeable and mature at that age, woman."  
  
"I wasn't there when you were five, so that's unverifiable."  
  
"Hn. If you say so."  
  



	12. One and the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap from last chapter: The Saiyan families are rallying around each other because of Trunks, but there's tension among them over how to proceed, especially because of Piccolo's warnings.

**5:30 a.m., Saturday: Medical Research Center**  
  
Bulma stared at the 3-D reproduction of what had been the rapid rate of cell division in Trunks' bloodstream. The hematologist-oncologist standing nearby stayed quiet, attempting to quell her nervousness near one of the most brilliant minds in science on Earth. Bulma swallowed the last of her iced coffee, walking closer to the projected image. Cancer cells had formed misshapen clusters, crowding out healthy ones.   
  
"This is unbelievable, Govindini. You said he has forty times the normal number of cells?"   
  
"It's good that you got Trunks here in time to be treatment, Dr. Brief."  
  
"It's great that you're a part of our medical team, doctor -- and, please, call me Bulma. We may be in this together for the long haul with my son's treatment."  
  
"I am honored to help you. I have to admit, though, it's somewhat intimidating."  
  
"You better get over that now," Bulma replied, shaking her hand. "You haven't met Trunks' father yet. He usually behaves around me, but he's also …brusque."  
  
"No worries, Dr. -- um, Bulma. I have heard about him."  
  
"Oh?" Bulma's head cocked. "So there's gossip?"  
  
Govindini promptly wagged her head to disagree, holding her hands up. "No. I wouldn't call it gossip. Your team is very close. They've supported you for years. They said I should develop a tough skin."  
  
"Can't disagree with that, but did they tell you my husband also knows how to cook? He made a lovely meal for everyone last year for a holiday party -- with a lot of help from our bots at home."  
  
Bulma looked at her watch, expecting a text from Gohan, who would be joining Goku and Piccolo at the medical center in another lab later that morning. She briefly wondered if Vegeta wouldn't attend the gathering after having breakfast with Bulla but then shook the doubt off.  
  
"So the targeted therapy is slowing down the cell-division rate," Govindini continued. "We still have to be careful about using immunotherapy because of his genetic structure."  
  
"Yes, I know. The same regeneration process that makes Saiyans stronger after injury and recovery is the same trait that can kill my son."   
  
"If he weren't already so ill, I would say give these treatments more time." Govindini removed a red-laser pen from her pocket, pointing at the image. "Other species have unique regeneration capabilities that respond to similar therapies."  
  
"Then what are you proposing?"  
  
"Reframed vascular nanobots. _We must fight fire with fire._ I'm confident we can reverse and crush the sophisticated biological manipulation that kicked this off in Trunks' body -- and we must start in 48 hours. I'm not sure he will live another week, despite his response to our third-line treatment now."  
  
Bulma expected Govindini's answer to fall into this category. A supernatural intervention was preferable, she thought. Trunks' entire body was in overdrive. Nanobots were highly effective for treating many conditions, but they had to be extremely well-designed to carry out their missions. The Tuffle biology behind such an aggressive response in Trunks was just as important to know, if not more. Like a standard computer virus, the source could have a backdoor to achieve its final deadly goal.   
  
"I have to meet with my in-laws and husband later on. Send your plan to my phone, along with abstracts within the last few years about clinical testing with human and non-human subjects. We'll meet again at little after two p.m. Vegeta, my son-in-law, his parents and brother will be with me."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Govindini said, bowing. "Hang in there."  
  
Within two hours after seeing her son and Govindini, Bulma unsteadily applied concealer to hide dark shading around her misty red eyes. Her apartment at the medical center was one big blur. A desktop-computer screen displayed a brain image in the upper right corner. Highlighted text filled the page. Trunks, now on a ventilator, was losing body mass, but that wasn't the source of her upset then. Earlier, Vegeta found her crouched in chair outside of their son's room with handkerchief over her eyes. All he could do was lay hands on her back while she cried. Watching her distress lit a nasty, seething rage within him -- which he hadn't felt to this degree since his pre-Earth days. After consoling Bulma, he swiftly left for a private training center at Capsule Corporation, hoping to fend off another blackout.  
  
Yes, he would fight this out himself. He had marched alongside gods with pride, crossing barriers that left others in awe. Even if hell's fires returned for him again in death, he could depart knowing he tried to leave the universe better than what he believed it was in his youth. Even if his son died, it wouldn't break him -- but there would be hell to pay if the source of that torment still walked among them.  
  
His long-dormant thirst for the kill -- to inhale the pungent odor of a mortal enemy's blood dripping between his fingers -- had been renewed once again. Revenge and duty were one and the same.  
  


* * *

  
The aroma of fresh coffee didn't take long to awaken Goten. He rolled on his side in bed, mentally preparing himself for another day at the hospital. He struggled the emotional pain with each passing day, watching his husband struggle, but he didn't run from it. He always jumped first to hug Bulla, who looked more lost between her parents, though they were doing their best to hold everyone together. Goten sensed the teenager was struggling more with her identity than anyone realized, except for Pan maybe. Two short knocks on the door and a pause pushed these thoughts aside.  
  
"Are you awake? I brought coffee since you don't drink tea anymore."  
  
"Sure, mom, and I still drink tea."  
  
Chi Chi didn't only bring coffee. The table-size tray carried a traditional breakfast: raw egg on hot rice, fresh grapes the size of golf balls, broth, and other items.  
  
"Staying for a while?"  
  
"Of course, I am." Chi Chi's eyes rolled as if the question were patently absurd. "Saiyans aren't the only ones who get hungry. I'm surprised you and Trunks don't have regular grocery delivery -- or at least get shipments from the farms in the country. There's nothing in the fridge."  
  
"Mom, please --"  
  
"I'm just saying, Goten ---"  
  
"Mom, please! Eat more. Talk less. Chew slowly... for a long time."  
  
"You're telling me, a non-Saiyan, to eat slowly? That's rich."  
  
"This is straight comedy right here." Goten jiggled his fork, laughing. "Be glad that I love you."  
  
"I’ve done my job." Chi Chi moved next to him, grasping both cheeks. "Maybe I'm not as good as Trunks at making you laugh, but I tried."  
  
"Will you hand me my medicine please, mom?"  
  
"Sure, darling. Do you think your dosage should be increased? You are under a lot of stress."  
  
"Well that's not exactly how this works, at least for the antidepressants. Be concerned if you see my moods swing too far in either direction. Then a change might be needed. I'm trying not to use anti-anxiety pills unless I truly hit a wall, which I don't believe I will."  
  
"I'm so proud of you. Your father is too."  
  
"You don't have to speak for him."  
  
"He is proud of you, Goten!"  
  
"I don't doubt that he is, but it's not your job to clear the path every time we discuss him. Our relationship will continue to be uncomfortable sometimes. It's OK."  
  
"Your dad is on the way to the medical center to meet with Piccolo, Gohan, Vegeta and Bulma."  
  
Goten's tone became noticeably passive recalling the chat. "Big brother told me last night. They're discussing what happened during that fight with Lychee."  
  
Chi Chi wiped her mouth. "Don't you think you should be there?"  
  
"I told him I'll be with Trunks. They don't need me. Gohan didn't mention you attending either."  
  
"Because _I volunteered_ to stay here to help out -- because I figured you would actually go. That doesn't mean I just plan to ignore the rest."  
  
Goten poured more coffee before making eye contact again. "I don't want to discuss this anymore, mother. Thank you for breakfast. I should get up. Trunks needs to hear my voice. I'll finish eating as soon as I shower and dress."  
  
"All right." Chi Chi gave in, but not completely. "I'll pick my battles." She pivoted as Goten's phone rattled on top of the drawer chest, and then chimed.  
  
"It's Bulma," he said. "Would you mind bringing that to me please?"  
  
Chi Chi flipped the phone screen over, touching her heart. The background picture showed Goten and Trunks bowing to their parents at the wedding.  
  
"Oh, Goten! This is _so, so_ lovely."  
  
"Yes, it is." He waved at her to move faster. He couldn't take her crying right now. "Looks like Bulma kept the message short."  
  
  
***********  
9:00 a.m.  
From: earned.it.all@capsule.com <Bulma Brief>  
To: goldfinch@bijou.com <Son Goten>  
 _  
Hi, love. I hoped you would join us for the first meeting, but Gohan says you plan to spend most of the morning with Trunks, which I understand. We have a lot to discuss though, so I suggest arriving sooner to get quality time with him. The second meeting is at 2:15 with the oncologist about his treatment plan. Bring Chi Chi with you.  
  
Hugs,  
  
BB  
_*********** _  
  
_"We're discussing Trunks' treatment plan too, mom. Bulma wants you there with us instead of puttering around here."  
  
Chi Chi patted her apron down. "I hope this will be good news. You go get that shower. I'll stick these dishes in the washer and store the food."  
  
"By the way, your hair looks great with that long gray streak. I'm glad you stopped dyeing your hair."  
  
"Oh, you like it!" Chi Chi clapped her hands. "Your dad said it looks pretty too."  
  
Goten smiled. "Keep your fingers crossed. Maybe we'll bring Trunks home earlier."

Chi Chi shut her eyes, twisting fingers on both hands. "Crossing on both sides." 

* * *

  
Vegeta arrived in his all-black workout clothing with a towel draped over his neck. Bulma was reviewing video of the Lychee fights on Earth and the Dark Planet.  
  
"You should step back for a while, Bulma, especially after this morning."  
  
"No." She pushed his hand away, continuing her obsessive examination. "No. Have you remembered anything else yet?"  
  
Vegeta's touch wasn't only meant to calm her. Her ki felt fainter. Bulma whirled around, ticked off by his lack of response.  
  
"Did you hear me?"  
  
"I did," Vegeta replied, "You better listen right now, because I'm saying this once.  
  
"Can we _not_ do this right now?!" Bulma snapped. "There's too much that we need to focus on, Vegeta. I'm not in the mood for anyone's ultimatum at a time like this. You know that!"  
  
"And when we're all done with these meetings, you will leave if I have to _throw you_ over my shoulder with a scarf over your mouth!" Vegeta shouted. "If you think I'm joking, _just try me._ I don't give _a damn_ if the staff sees it. You must get a few more hours of sleep!"  
  
Bulma's hands smacked hard on her hips. "On average, I say we've both had about three to four hours sleep every night this week. You could afford some too."  
  
"I almost blacked out today, Bulma."  
  
"What?!" She quickly shut off the screen. "You could have said that earlier."  
  
"I'm fine." Vegeta held her waist. "I'm fine. I'm telling you now because I fought it off. Neither of us can afford to go down. Our daughter and son-in-law need us. If we have to say this every morning, then let's do that. Ventilator or not, Trunks has made it through a week."   
  
Piccolo climbed through a window Bulma purposely left open. The couple knew he probably heard the intimate details from farther off than either preferred.   
  
"Following _each other'_ s advice is wise," the Namekian said as his eyes lingered longer on Bulma, reinforcing his message.   
  
Gohan and Goku entered from the lab's front, both wearing scrubs. They removed their bright blue bonnets, quietly nodding their hellos to everyone.   
  
"Trunks doesn't look like he's in as much discomfort today, Bulma," Goku said, lifting her for a hug and kiss. "You're taking good care of him."  
  
Bulma patted his face. "We'll discuss that soon enough, big guy."  
  
Vegeta cleared his throat loud enough to terrify a pride of lions -- if one had been nearby. Goku smiled awkwardly, returning Bulma to the floor and giving him a thumbs up.  
  



	13. Seeing Blood-Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap from last chapter: Bulma finds out potentially devastating news before an important meeting with Piccolo, Vegeta, Gohan, and Goku. Goten has retreated to the background as the others attempt to take action, preferring only to be with Trunks. Vegeta's rage stirs darkness inside of him.

"Are you ready to show us the images?" Piccolo requested. "How many angles did you get?"  
  
"We did a time lapse and zoom on many frames from our records," Bulma replied. "Unfortunately, the quality of some images degraded because of a data malfunction, which wasn't supposed to happen. Those from the mini-digicam on Vegeta's old battle suit are sharper -- but, of course, they're all from his line of sight, so there are limits."  
  
Vegeta's hand brushed over hers, hoping to put her more at ease. "Let's get started, Bulma."  
  
All five spread in a semicircle around the projection screen. The battle wasn't as long as others fought together over the years, but it was no less complex, especially because of the Tuffle technology involved.   
  
"Stop there," Piccolo and Gohan said simultaneously.  
  
"I get first dibs," Gohan said. "I've used this thing before." Piccolo winked at his former protégé, who took the remote from Bulma.  
  
Gohan split the frames, positing two images at different angles beside each other. Piccolo and Vegeta stepped closer.  
  
"Do you think it happened there?" Vegeta asked, pointing at a blurry flash near Anisum's chest.  
  
Piccolo's red eyes flashed, changing to a deep violet. "Zoom in closer from both angles, Gohan. I see all the colors well, and from several distances, but I want to make sure everything aligns properly. Yes, Vegeta, that is the hit. I see a thin outline of a plasma substance on him."  
  
"Damn it!" Vegeta fumed. "I see it now too. If only I hadn't shouted out loud. What I can't understand is why just my son? That plasma crap could have been directed at all of us. We must all be all susceptible to its effects -- maybe even you."  
  
"Sadism comes in many forms," Piccolo said solemnly. "You are no stranger to its influence. Perhaps it was intended for you, and then that thing's mind changed. Remember what I said at the wedding?"  
  
Goku's big arms stretched over his head. "OK, so it looks like we have the source. We still don't know what it is, and how -- or maybe -- Trunks is affected by the same thing."  
  
"I'm sure he is," Piccolo said. "Let's put that to rest now, Goku. Now that our memories are lined up, we must walk backward to investigate further."  
  
Gohan looked at Bulma. "What are the chances that a distinctive marking would have been left on Anisum or Trunks from that substance that may or may not be cancer-related?"  
  
"We know the cancer-related markings," Bulma replied, "but we can look for abnormal ones again."  
  
"Anisum had small wine-colored mark on the upper right side of his chest," Vegeta said quietly. "It wasn't something I thought about until now. He was so sick before he died, I mean, and the other symptoms were so prominent. That's all I paid attention to."  
  
"It's OK." Bulma touching his arm. "You didn't know. At least we know more."  
  
Gohan shut off the remote. "Dad, to answer your question, we should trace back all of Trunks' physical contacts -- like maybe some technical gadget even. We're all pretty good at detective work."  
  
Goku shook his head, disagreeing. "Look, I don't want to offend any of you here, but doing that is like finding needle in a haystack -- even if we had godly help, which we don’t have beyond Dende and our own powers. Bulma, Vegeta, you know we don't have time with Trunks being so sick."  
  
"Both of you are partially correct," Piccolo said. "A very specific contact happened, perhaps with someone Trunks or Goten knew intimately."  
  
"Or any one of us," Vegeta said.  
  
Piccolo's fingers interlaced. "The ferocious arrogance of _that thing_ we fought is likely programmed into a camouflaged underling -- or maybe even a self-destructing cyborg. Like a serial killer, it might be lurking to see how this ends. The harm has already been done."  
  
"That's a death wish if there ever was one," Goku grunted.

"Stop it, all of you," Bulma said tiredly. "Though we're all desensitized to terrible situations, none of us have come out successfully without lingering trauma -- even you, Piccolo. Bravado only goes so far."  
  
At first, every man in the room shared curious stares -- even the two who knew her best. Piccolo's head dipped, signaling for her to lead further discussion.  
  
"Yes, even me," he agreed. "You have an admirable capacity for empathy that others may… never have. We all owe you a great debt. What else is on your mind?"  
  
"I say this not from arrogance, but from science," Bulma continued. "I cannot underestimate the danger we might be facing. My company has a security division dedicated to studying and cataloging alien technologies that could bring down entire societies -- even the most powerful societies that believe they're protected by their inborn powers, magic, or their own educational expertise. Our work with the Galactic Patrol is vital.  
  
"This is unlike anything we've ever seen created by _any_ mortal, guys. I sat outside of my son's room today crying not only because of his physical condition, but because of this. I couldn't even bring myself to tell Vegeta then. I usually rise to the challenge, but I don’t feel brilliant. I'm just a terrified mom. What if this has the means _to possess_ minds and bodies, rather than only cause an immunity-disruptive disease and kill its host? It has a dependent virus-parasite relationship that's infected Trunks, yet it's gone dormant."  
  
"It's…it's in his brain, isn't it?" Gohan asked. "My god!"  
  
Bulma's lips quivered. Vegeta and Piccolo remained immobile as Goku ran over to hug her, which she accepted. She rarely wept like this, but he remembered each time she did.   
  
His embrace tightened around her. "I'm so, so sorry. You’re the best there is."  
  
"I thought we had good news for his cancer treatment, but now this," Bulma said, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "We still have to break the news to Goten and Bulla."  
  
"If the source can be recognized, which we've done on both sides, it can be vanquished," Piccolo said. "All of you know I'm not a natural optimist either."  
  
Vegeta broke through his mind's murky, saturnine fog to speak. "My wife must rest before we meet again about Trunks' prognosis. Don't you agree, Kakarot, since you're checking _Bulma's ki_ as we speak?"  
  
"I had to," Goku answered. Bulma looked up as he smiled. "Listen to him."  
  
"Fine," she said. "I'll be in our apartment on the opposite end the facility. We can push back our meeting with the oncologist a few more hours."  
  
Vegeta accompanied her to the door, cradling her head between his hands. "You _are_ brilliant. I love you, and I don't care who hears me. You are doing your best and still thinking about helping others. Remember what Piccolo just said. I'll be up later."  
  
Bulma saw emergent tears in his eyes. She tugged on her ear: a sign for him to speak telepathically.  
  
 _"What?"_ Vegeta asked.  
 _  
"Can you hold yourself together so we can do this alone together? We really need to get the waterworks out of our systems so we can fight with everything we have."  
_  
 _"Of course I can, though all of these jokers have seen me bawl before. It's still fucking embarrassing."  
_  
Bulma lightly stroked his chin, smiling. " _Bye. I love you so much."_  
  
Vegeta gathered himself, returning to the room's center. "Gohan, I trust Piccolo's assessment of the arguments you and Kakarot made -- and my wife's fears. My theory is a weakness prevents the main source of this so-called `parasitic technology' from taking further action beyond harming my sons. Clearly it's alone, or else more chaos would happen, don't you think?"  
  
"We shouldn't underestimate other possibilities," Gohan warned, "but, yes, it's always likely _another_ kind of mortal could be hosting its -- um, _emotionally reactive_ side. What say you, Piccolo?"  
  
"The answers lie with Trunks and Goten, I believe. We must help them unearth their memories."  
  
"OK, guys," Goku said. "Enough talking! Let's get going."  
  


* * *

  
  
 **10:30 a.m. Pinule Psychiatric Center**  
  
"Ms. Sadie? It's nurse Gigi, honey. You dressed all pretty today?"  
  
"What does it matter, Geraldine? I'm still here. At least you're showing some good manners…today."  
  
"Oh, she's in her right mind," the pleased nurse whispered to an attendant beside her. "That's great."  
  
"She might eat more," the other woman replied. "All of her favorites are on this food tray, too."  
  
Sadie listened from her bedside, unevenly using her non-paralyzed arm to brush her hair. No one truly knew how well she could hear, which was fine. She had mental illness for what seemed like her entire life, but her intelligence was nowhere near prosaic. Her brows, as stark-white as her hair, tensed as a muddled vision of Goten's kind face entered her thoughts.   
  
"I'm sorry for you Goten, but I am _not_ sorry I did it." Her pupils glowed a fearsome blood-red as she smiled with a hint of sadness. "No harm shall come to the rest of your family. Punishment for the sins of the Saiyan king and his followers -- the true sinners who drove us to our destruction -- have rightfully been delivered upon his male heirs. This body will die soon, now that my duties are almost fulfilled."  
  
As the nurses entered, the two thin red lines extending from her temples over her eyelids faded.   
  


* * *

  
Goten's cane clattered on the hospital's beige tile, which changed in texture to provide the traction needed for balance, though he could use his power to stop from falling completely. Chi Chi wasn't too far behind. Her mind wandered between concerns, especially about Bulma. Feeling his phone vibrate, Goten stopped in the waiting area near Trunks' room. The call's timing irritated him, but he had to answer. Staff at Pinule called semi-regularly to check on his welfare.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Good morning, Goten. It's nurse Geraldine."  
  
"Hello, Gigi. What can I do for you?"  
  
"I'm calling to see if you need another prescription. You also missed your talk with Olive."  
  
"My husband is hospitalized and very ill. It happened shortly after our wedding. I have to reschedule for another time -- maybe next week? I have enough prescriptions. Thanks. Anything else?"  
,  
Geraldine sighed. "Goten, we've worked together a long time. Now that you're telling me this, I am concerned. You have an illness too. Situations like what you're dealing with now can be destabilizing for your mental health. Talking with your therapist is a good idea."  
  
"Which I will do," Goten asserted. "I appreciate your concern, but being with Trunks and our families day and night have been all-consuming. Just give me a few more days."  
  
"I'm sorry, dear heart. I didn't mean to upset you. Trunks is such a joy to be around, with those fetching eyes and laugh of his. I hope he comes through victorious."  
  
"That's OK. I'm quite smitten with my husband too -- and will tell him about your crush. By the way, how is Sadie? She wasn't doing well when you and I spoke last."  
  
"Oh, dear, her health is taking more of a turn. You know she had that stroke after you stayed here. She also has vascular dementia, but it's being managed with medication."  
  
"Give her a hug for me, Gigi. I'm sorry to hear about her situation."  
  
"Well, I'm going to stop burdening you. I wish you and the family well. I'll give Sadie that hug. Bye now."  
  
Goten pushed the phone inside his jacket. Chi Chi squeezed his arm.  
  
"You don’t have to say anything, mom. I'll do a therapy session sooner. That's what Trunks would want, but I'll go to Pinule instead this time, rather than do an at-home session."  
  
"Well, now, I'm not sure about that, Goten. Pinule definitely isn't nearby, and with Trunks like this --"  
  
"I don't know, mom. For whatever reason, I think seeing Sadie even for a short time is good too. She is all alone. No family. I seemed to calm her. I'll have a copter fly me there quickly tomorrow."  
  


* * *

**Notes: I am really enjoying the enthusiastic and thoughtful questions in the comments! Even when you don't have questions, hearing from you directly is always great. I just enjoy seeing your responses. Thank you!**


	14. The Savagery of Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From last chapter: The family made further plans to investigate how Trunks -- who has a severe form of leukemia -- was attacked and by who did it. Bulma and Vegeta had to pull themselves together. Goten planned to leave the city to visit Pinule for therapy and spend time with Sadie, the now-dying older woman with her own secrets.

Dressed in hospital scrubs, Gohan stood outside of Trunks' hospital room watching Vegeta. Everyone was on the verge of going their separate ways to begin detective work, seeking victory in race no one wanted to run. For the moment, though, Gohan was a dad who felt compelled to reach out to another dad who was hurting terribly. Vegeta would always be a giant box of needles, but Gohan was also a skilled couturier. He threaded those pins well over many years, sewing the ties of their once-unlikely bond. It didn't hurt that their daughters -- the apples of their eyes -- were inseparable either.  
  
Sometimes when their wives and children weren't around, the men swapped jocular stories about parenthood. Though they never spoke of it directly, both felt relieved to have someone to share with about fathering girls. Gohan was far more of a softie, of course, but no one was _less shocked_ than he when, after Bulla was born, Vegeta jumped into the deep end of the "little my princess" pool. It also genuinely touched Gohan to see how much more Vegeta believed in himself because, indeed, he had helped raise good children -- with his exceptional and strong-willed wife leading the way.  
  
Vegeta sat stooped over in a chair next to Trunks' bed, almost appearing as if he were in prayer. He was forcing himself to draw from a deeper grounding within this meditative state to silence the discordance in his mind. Rage, anxiety, grief, fear were nothing to be trifled with, and while killing was rarely difficult for him, murder was something different. It _meant_ something different now. Not only was morality involved, but also the pillars of his sanity. Many others beyond his family and their friends to stood to lose out if he lost his way. They were the fortunate beneficiaries of his penance for past misdeeds.  
  
He felt so grateful to have a safe emotional space to cry with his wife and not feel ashamed. As Bulma said, doing it together was necessary so they could face the challenges ahead with fortitude and avoid despair. Yet Vegeta felt more troubled about her stress than his own now. In matters of science, this was the first time he ever heard Bulma doubt herself. Even when her ideas failed, she usually bounced back from disappointments fired up and busily moving along to the next potential achievement. But they had spent almost their entire lifetimes playing offense against constant worst-case scenarios.  
  
To be honest, Vegeta admired all of the human women who dared to mate with Saiyan men. They were sturdy, earnest, and hardworking souls who absolutely took no shit from their mates -- even the nicest one, Gohan's wife Videl. It was she Vegeta thought of as Gohan approached. He rarely felt comfortable with being touched from behind -- a reflex from seemingly endless dangerous encounters -- but in this case, he didn't mind when Gohan's supportive hand landed on his shoulder. With his head bowed, he grasped the younger man's forearm, expressing his thanks.  
  
"It's going to be all right, friend."  
  
"How many times have we said that to each other, Gohan?"  
  
"I stopped counting after a while. It's ingrained in me, I guess."  
  
Vegeta looked up. "Ingrained? Maybe you should thank me for that. You've seen me return from the dead -- or the brink of it -- enough times to feel confident."  
  
"Damn, I'm great at this," Gohan replied with a chuckle. "I thought that comment might peeve you."  
  
Vegeta crossed his arms, glowering for theatrical effect. "Don't be so smug, kid."  
  
"I got some great schooling from you on that, Vegeta. No better teacher in my book, and I haven't been a kid for eons."  
  
Vegeta's awareness returned to Trunks. _No better teacher. My son always says that too. They're both more gracious about me than I could ever be about myself.  
  
_ "I'll take that compliment and run with it," he replied, grasping Trunks' hand. "Wouldn't you agree with him, son? Of course you would. Of course. You all ganged up on me, but I won't complain." He inhaled tiredly, rising as Gohan moved in front to say a few words to Trunks.  
  
Gohan couldn't help but recall the fun-loving kid who competed to be carried on his shoulders, or when Trunks and Goten ran around his legs like mini-cyclones.  
  
"Hey partner, I'm doing what I can to take care of this guy next to me -- as ornery as your dad is -- and the rest of the family. My brother is holding up all right, but it would be great to see your annoying grin soon. I… love you, man."   
  
Vegeta was almost out the door as Gohan said those final words. "He knows you do," he said, shutting his eyes. "Always… known. Let's go. We need to stop by the vault."  
  
Appearing puzzled, Gohan picked up his pace to follow Vegeta's quickening stride. "The vault?"  
  
"Yeah. Bulma and I have something for you."  
  
"For me?"  
  
Vegeta's irritated side glance was almost as crushing as a scolding. "Who else, Gohan? That's always been terrible habit of yours. I just _said_ what I intend to do and where we're headed."  
  
"All right, all right. I get that trait from dad -- and like him, your dislike of it doesn't bother me one iota."  
  
"Less talking, and more moving," Vegeta replied with a snappy growl. "Your father usually complies with that command -- after I punch the shit of him."  
  


* * *

  
Donning her white lab coat, Bulma greeted the men at the entrance to the room where Anisum's sword was stored. She and Vegeta exchanged thoughtful looks, assessing each other's mood. Bulma nodded, confirming her readiness.  
  
Gohan walked ahead to the sword's display before facing them. "I can't let you two do this. Absolutely not. Why _in the world_ would you give this to me? Especially now?"  
  
"It's for Pan," Bulma replied. "We hope you and Videl will allow her to train with it. Our family discussed all of this before the wedding, actually."  
  
"So Bulla knows too?"  
  
Vegeta removed the sword from its perch, feeling the blade. "Our daughter has her own road to travel. She began the discussion about doing this -- with me -- even before I shared my thoughts about giving it away. It's meant to be used."  
  
Gohan smiled. "She's a great kid. I know you would have gladly given it to her if she really wanted it."  
  
After handing Gohan the weapon, Vegeta clasped his hands behind his back. "I have to go now. You finish talking with Bulma."  
  
"But, Vegeta…"  
  
Bulma's concerned gaze fixed on Gohan. Her head angled a little, quietly suggesting that he stop, which he did. Despite Vegeta's determination to bequeath the weapon, doing it still hurt. After hugging Gohan, Bulma dimmed the lights, except for those above the sword.  
  
"He'll be OK -- really."  
  
"Yeah," Gohan agreed, holding her hand. "We all know he hates being fussed over too much. I understand way more now as an adult, especially as we prepare to find some answers. We're going to end this nightmare."  
  
"I guess we should have asked before laying our request at your feet. How are you feeling about Pan's training overall? You seemed ambivalent for a spell."  
  
"She wouldn't be training at all if I were truly ambivalent. Like Vegeta, I've observed her potential for a while, as well as her motivation. She will be thrilled. I won't get in her way."  
  
"And Goku?"  
  
"Her grandad has mostly stayed on the sidelines. Pan would like more attention from him in this respect, but she's not angry. What she wants doesn't revolve around him, which is a good sign. I guarantee dad is keeping tabs on her, but consider his experiences with Goten and me. If I were him, I might be cautious too."  
  
"Has he ever spoken of this openly?"  
  
"He knows I've thought about it, but we can discuss that later. What's going through your head now?"  
  
"Now that I've had some time to rest, Trunks' oncologist Govindini and I discussed more considerations about the cancer and his immune response."  
  
"So you really do think a modified virus was passed along that triggered the cancer?"  
  
"If so, it's stealthy and damned sturdy, Gohan. There are no clear biomarkers, but we have to find them. We _will_ find them. Nanites could have been the vector. _"  
  
_ "They're versatile for many biochemical uses."  
  
"But we've never come across one that could adapt like a chameleon and, perhaps, reshape itself _without further programming_ to make whatever pathogen it's carried into the body more destructive. _"  
_  
Gohan rubbed his temples. "Almost to the point of being sentient. I guess we shouldn't be that surprised. The Tuffles had gifted scientists, clearly."  
  
Bulma's eyes darkened. "Their brilliance and hubris didn't save them from their fate, _now did it_?"  
  
Gohan hadn't seen this expression before. Anger from her, yes. _Lots of it._ But this reaction seemed to go beyond that. It sounded markedly merciless. Like her husband, Bulma could easily kill out of necessity. But even with their worst enemies -- even Frieza -- she had never shown defiant, bloodthirsty vengeance. Vegeta had enough for the both of them, though he learned to control the its excesses.   
  
Gohan thoroughly knew how it felt to be that angry, so did Piccolo and Krillin and Tien Shinhan and, naturally, Vegeta and Goku. Having great power demanded that they learn to control themselves. If he noticed this change in such a short time, maybe others sensed a problem too. Vegeta usually paid close attention to his wife's moods, even when Bulma wasn't always as forthcoming or fooled others. But Gohan had known her since childhood. She just wasn't like them in that way.   
  
"No," he replied cautiously, "but that entire planet of Saiyans suffered just as bad a fate later." _  
  
_"And you _heard_ my husband. There's more than one side of the Saiyan-Tuffle story -- though with Trunks, we're still not sure about what we're dealing with completely." _  
_  
"Exactly," Gohan agreed, escorting her out. "Where are we headed now?"  
  
"Down the passage. I need some coffee. There's a machine in the electron-microscope room."  
  
Gohan chuckled as she playfully bumped him with her hip. "Are you serious, Bulma? How many people are down here at one time in that room to justify a souped-up coffee machine?"  
  
"My vault. My rules. Do you want java or not?"  
  
Gohan's eyes scrunched like a student calculating a tough equation. "Caramel mocha macchiato, please." Bulma's teasing snicker about his choice alleviated the some of his concern about her.  
  
"Fine. Iced coffee it is, though that stuff you're requesting is for lightweights."  
  
Gohan sipped as she watched him pace through the room. "So what else should I know?"  
  
"Our big concern is transmission --"  
  
"And the reason why the rest of us haven't had any symptoms."  
  
"Why the rest of you _Saiyans_ aren't showing symptoms, Gohan. As we theorized earlier, given Anisum's direct hit from Lychee's weapon all those years ago, extremely close contact with the source of Trunks' illness is a likely factor. Since we're going the virus route, a dormant stage would have to be involved, since it took years before Anisum fell ill."  
  
Gohan propped his back against a wall. "Yet even with Anisum that was a hell of a _long_ dormancy, followed by a longish development of his cancer. If we were to go by that scenario alone, our Trunks would've been infected by his tenth birthday, which we can posit didn't happen."  
  
"Yes," Bulma agreed. "Many unknowns. This had to happen to Trunks over a much shorter period. Govindini also suggested using vascular nanites to reverse his leukemia's progression, but we need to determine how the other side of the equation works. If we don't, doing that could only make things worse."  
  
"We must identify both host and vector," Gohan said. "Nanites would be an appropriate method to transmit the virus, if that's what we're dealing with, but you're still nowhere close to finding traceable evidence. How would they penetrate Saiyan bodies in the first place?"  
  
"It hasn't been that long, though. Maybe the idea is that this effect -- the viral infection leading to the cancer, as well as Trunks' hyper-immune response -- is carried out by careful yet variable fine-tuning of the nanites, which therefore only adapt based on the host's intentions."  
  
"So you're saying the host could choose its victims at will. One person might be enough, though it may have the means to adapt and affect others -- also at will. Then it observes the wreckage from afar like a serial killer, as Piccolo said. Maybe the nanites also deactivate when it's clear that the damage is extensive -- or close enough."  
  
"Still leaving the question about what kind of host we're dealing with."  
  
"Our contact tracing is going to be a pain in the ass, like my dad said, but let's just assume we're dealing with a human host. How could the original Tuffle organism have invaded this person?"  
  
"I don't know, Gohan, but it makes what I said in Trunks' room worse. It would be catastrophic if, in fact, this thing could _invade_ others as much as it wants -- not just promote its destructive handiwork through a second or third party. Regardless, anyone with Saiyan genes must get extra protection."  
  
"But here's where Vegeta's theory comes in. Maybe this thing has a weakness stopping it from doing further damage. So…"  
  
"OK, let's stop here. Next step is the girls go with Roshi, along with Chi Chi, Videl and Eighteen and Marron, to another location. There's no harm in letting them train together. You and the guys need external and internal protection. Krillin and Tien are backup in this vicinity while you investigate."  
  
Gohan put his cup down, entwining his long fingers. "We don't exactly want to blow our covers by wearing fighter suits."  
  
Bulma glanced at her watch, tracking Vegeta's whereabouts by sensor. "Not a good time to irritate me, Gohan. Not at all."  
  
"I'm sorry. What's up?"  
  
"Vegeta once tried a drug that a doctor in Frieza's army created. It might be an opening for us."  
  
"He just _tried s_ omething randomly on the first take?"  
  
Bulma's foot drummed impatiently on the floor. "Why are you acting surprised about the nutty shit he's done? It was designed as a _vaccine_ and a _treatment_ for some types of viral infections. That's not easy to do. Vegeta and I didn't recall until last night. He has antibodies that you and Goku don't. We can't assure protection, but the aftereffects of whatever he received could kill the virus, keep it dormant indefinitely, or slow down its spread for much longer."  
  
"So you want dad and me to be given his plasma?"  
  
"You can say no if you're worried," Bulma replied. "We'll understand. With Trunks' condition more fragile, we have consider how the plamsa will be given alongside his current treatment. We just have to be more careful since we don't know what or where the virus is. Pushing it out into the open without more biological support could exacerbate his leukemia. It would've been a blessing if his father had passed this immune response to him when I got pregnant."  
  
As usual, her proposal was compelling. Gohan kissed her hands and sprinted toward the door. "I'm all for it!" he exclaimed. "You coming?"  
  
"I'll …join you soon, hon," Bulma said with less enthusiasm. "Need to do a few more things. I will capsulize the sword and give it to your father-in-law at the medical center. He'll take it to Pan."  
  
Gohan's uneasiness returned as her demeanor changed. "It's OK to get tired of living like this sometimes. Don't beat yourself up inside. No one we know wants or likes to be a hero all of the time."  
  
Bulma waved at him, mustering a smile. "I'm all right. Get out of here."  
  
She opened a pressurized door to a rear room, which activated an extractor fan. After locking herself inside, she opened a drawer containing an air-sealed, well-preserved pack of cigarettes. She sat down taking a long inhale that followed a lighter's brisk clicking. She knew the rush would be temporary, but the sensation felt intense and soothing, relaxing her shaking hands. Vegeta would hit the roof from anger if he knew she'd kept a pack hidden, changing it annually.  
  
This was her first smoke in two decades.  
  
If her husband couldn't destroy the creature that savagely attacked their sons, it was her sincerest hope to do it herself -- without regret. 

* * *

  
Sheba stood on her hind legs, imploring to be picked up, which Goten did. His phone, sitting on the table nearby, glowed blue as the volume of his earpiece increased.  
  
"Yes, Gohan, I'll return soon for the plasma. You know I'm just as concerned, but I can't let this uncertainty control me. Trunks is in a safe place. That's what I care about -- and you too. I want you, dad, Vegeta and Piccolo to be protected. Everyone else is in a safe place? Good. Good. Bye."  
  
Sheba's meow preceded a quick, innocent lick, pleasing her giant friend. Goten held her in front of him.  
  
"You're a delightful companion, my little feline diva. I don't know what I'd do without you. Don't worry about me. I'll be OK. I have a lot on my mind, but I won't allow it to take me down."  
  
"Goten, may I come in?"  
  
"Sure, Gigi."  
  
The nurse gingerly opened the door, carrying a breakfast tray. "I'm glad you took my advice and came back here. I know it's a bit late for breakfast, but it's also your favorite meal. There's a lot more where this came from."  
  
Goten stood to hug her. "I'm sure there is, and thank you. I'm not that hungry right now, though."  
  
Gigi held his chin like a loving grandmother, kissing both cheeks. "How is Trunks, dear?"  
  
"We're doing our best to keep him comfortable. I'm staying hopeful."  
  
Gigi sensed the underlying message, which was tragic. Goten was mentally preparing himself for losing his husband. In many years of nursing, he was the most thoughtful young person she'd ever known. He certainly didn't deserve this kind of heartache.  
  
"OK, dear heart. He's in my thoughts. Good thoughts. Are you ready for your session with Olive?"  
  
"Actually, I'd like to see Sadie first. It's probably better since it's still early, and I'd prefer to leave here as soon as I'm done."  
  
'Yes, you're probably right. Sadie's lucidity varies, but even now, she sometimes has more energy this time of day, despite being so sick."  
  
"OK. Thanks for telling me. Maybe you should hold the breakfast for me too."  
  
"Excellent!" Gigi beamed. "That's what I like to hear. Just let me know when you're ready."  
  
Goten took his cane, walking in the opposite direction. No distracting, topsy turvy thoughts filled his mind. His consciousness felt clearer than it had been in the week since Trunks entered hospital. The hallway smelled of cedar and fresh outdoor air. He lightly rapped on Sadie's door.  
  
"What?" she asked with a guttural grumble. "I told you _I'm not_ hungry."  
  
"Well you're just in luck, Sadie. Neither am I -- yet."  
  
"Is that you, Goten?"  
  
"In the flesh. May I come in?"  
  
"Yeah, but I don't look great since my stroke. Good days. Bad days. I don't always remember stuff. Can get in bad moods. Did they tell you?"  
  
"Not to worry," Goten whispered as he entered. "Not looking great is a fact of life for me."  
  
Sadie's features were definitely more ashen, he observed. Her sunken, hollowed eyes made her face more skeletal. Her paralyzed arm was easily recognizable. Indeed, she probably wouldn't live much longer.  
  
"You look fine," she replied, "Get that chair and sit beside me. That leg of yours giving you trouble?"  
  
Goten latched his cane, seating himself on Sadie's stroke-affected side. "It is what it is."  
  
"How is Trunks?"  
  
"Oh, he's doing quite well. We married recently. Going on our honeymoon soon."  
  
Sadie's head lifted briefly to eye him. "Is that so? Congratulations. I'm so happy for you, sweetheart."  
  
Goten's chin dropped as a sneer stretched across his mouth. His eyes were as cold as virgin granite. "We both know that's _a lie_ , you treacherous, despicable _bitch_."  
  


* * *

**A/N: Had to press the reset button to get back into the right mind for this. 🙂 (Also, I fixed that Gohan/Goten mixup.) I hope you like it. Comments are invited. Thanks for following.**   
  



	15. Hanging in the Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From last chapter: Goten angrily reveals himself to a bedridden Sadie. Bulma, though diligently working to support her friends and family, is showing more signs of stress and may have restarted her smoking habit.

The spirit's footsteps were as light as the refined and enchanting wind song rising from his flute. Cherry blossom petals wafted over and above the earthen path between the trees. Two men dressed in white robes and black sandals walked alongside a riverbank below the road. The still water, nature's mirror, projected their tall reflections as wisps of their shoulder-length lavender hair blew backward over their ears. They were mirror images of each other, though one man showed subtle signs of his older age and demeanor.  
  
"I never thought we'd see each other again."  
  
"I know. How is your father?"  
  
"You mean our father?"  
  
"Well, yes, Trunks. He is the only father I've known, but he is the man who raised you."  
  
"He has the highest respect for you, Anisum. He _is_ your father."  
  
Anisum stopped, taking hold of Trunks' shoulder. "Yes, he is my father in every sense of the word. He proved that -- almost lost his life more than once protecting and helping me. Before I died, I thanked him for sharing a part of himself that my deceased father never had the opportunity to do."  
  
"And what of you?"  
  
"I have many choices, as you do, because of the sacrifices I made for my world. I want to see my wife again after she dies, though, before traveling a new road. Maybe our souls will proceed together, or maybe our energy will be shared with someone worthy your realm, or even an animal or a plant."  
  
"Have you seen your mentor?"  
  
"Yes, I have seen Master Gohan. He greeted me, along with my mother, when I died. His spirit has now become a part of the Saiyan ancients. His father is following another path for now."  
  
Trunks returned Anisum's peaceful smile. "So I have something to look forward to. I don't think I could choose another route until seeing them all again -- Goten, my sister, my parents."  
  
"Trunks, I am only here in this dimension for a short time, and you never answered my question."  
  
"Papa is wrestling with his pain over both of us...struggling with himself. He speaks in Saiyan at my bedside. I know the words. `I only wish I had a kingdom to give you, son. Forgive me. I tried. Thank you for loving me.' I feel his energy each time he touches me. My mortal body is still alive, I believe, for that reason. Our connection is strong."  
  
"And what of Goten? You said you're married."  
  
"Goten… will also thrive without me -- and take his place alongside others to protect and serve. That was my mission. I see that now."   
  
Anisum took flight, gliding close to the river's surface. Trunks' body skated along his right side. Anisum purposely didn't cross into the mortal realm to observe Earth's Saiyan families -- his family -- though he had been granted permission long before Trunks' appearance. Seeing them up close would have been hard on his emotions, which he admitted to himself. Instead, his spirit visited Mai when he could, whispering his love through a flower's perfume or a cat's mew.  
  
"Trunks, though the sound of the flute follows us, you do not have to follow it. I wouldn't be here now if you weren't being given a choice. I was _summoned_ , to be exact. I want you to live, which you know everyone else wants too."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then why are you considering leaving them behind?"  
  
"Before I came here, I saw myself -- inside of myself. Parts of my body may recover, but my mind may not. That I was allowed to witness the degree of damage is no coincidence, unless you're saying my spirit is being toyed with. Our family is strong, but -- "  
  
" _And_ they will care for you with devotion, no matter what condition you're in."  
  
Trunks stared forward. "Is it possible for my sister and Pan to receive some of my power when I die?"  
  
Anisum sighed, contemplating his options. He understood exactly how the young man felt. If he couldn't be cured, Trunks didn't want his family to endure years of caring for him until he finally died. Anisum had waited too long to seek help himself, ignoring signs of his declining health until it was too late. His wife Mai had been struggling emotionally with their choice not to have children, and he didn't want to further burden her. She already extended incredible support during his debilitating PTSD episodes.  
  
Anisum said he wanted to be more "whole" to properly father a child. The tragedy was his belief that he never, ever could be, despite seeing the good father Vegeta had become himself. Unlike others, Anisum had never seen Vegeta truly break down before -- never thought the man was capable, really -- until he shared these thoughts. Vegeta acknowledged that for him, those feelings of inadequacy would probably never disappear. The prince soon decided to perform the Saiyan naming ceremony. He harbored no illusions about his own fate. Receiving the gift of seeing family -- especially his cherished wife -- after his death wasn't assured, no matter how much good he did.  
  
"Yes, little brother," Anisum said to Trunks with the thoughtful warmth their personalities both shared. "This request can be granted -- but before you decide, let me show you something."  
  
As the two took a trip into Anisum's memory, the flutist's melody entered the mortal realm where only those with psychic connections between both domains could hear -- though only by the spirit's choice. Piccolo stood at the Lookout's front rim, observing endless miles of terrain. Dende moved beside him.  
  
"You sense something, Piccolo?"  
  
"Mm. More like hear it. The flutist."  
  
"Wait, is this about --"  
  
"About Trunks, yes. His life truly hangs in the balance, according to the song's melody. Not everyone is given a choice whether to live. He's being offered one, which he could reject."  
  
"Really?" Dende asked with worry. "Buy why?"  
  
Piccolo's arms outstretched, transforming his white clothing into more subdued attire. "That I don't know, but it appears we have some more time. Trunks was scheduled to begin a double treatment today, but only one can be given due to our incomplete knowledge about his disease's triggers. Still, it seems Vegeta's healing abilities have advanced quickly this week -- even more so than what Goku possesses -- and he knows it, though he hasn't told anyone. The strength and will of a father's love. Remarkably, it's supporting Trunks' bodily stability."  
  
"That's good to hear, but why wouldn't Vegeta tell anyone?" Dende asked. "I'm amazed. It wasn't even possible at the wedding. I can't see him not sharing this with Bulma."  
  
"Because Vegeta's focus, ultimately, is permanence. It's his nature, Dende. What he's doing isn't permanent. It's delaying what could be the inevitable if no solution is found. There's no need for more emotional investment than what's absolutely necessary."   
  
"The inevitable being Trunks' death," Dende replied sadly, though he believed that the kais, even at a distance, had high hopes for the young man to surpass Vegeta's prowess. But none could interfere. "I understand. Where are you off to now?"  
  
Mr. Popo, strolling from the Lookout's garden, wiped his dirt-covered hands. "Yes, please share this, Piccolo. You suddenly appear troubled."  
  
"I always look like this," a scowling Piccolo said before jetting away. "Just tell me if I'm getting wrinkles. I'd like to keep my handsome looks. Keep an eye on the reflecting pool, Dende -- and you watch him, Mr. Popo."  
  
Mr. Popo smiled, placing his suddenly clean hands on the little Namekian's bald head. "That is my job. I am his attendant, the last time I reviewed my credentials."   
  
Gohan soon met his mentor and friend in the rounded, rolling clouds that changed what had been a sunny day into an overcast one. They both slowed down for an easier talk.  
  
"Rain is coming."  
  
Piccolo smirked. "You don't say? I'm shocked." 

"OK, OK," Gohan grumbled. "Enough with the jokes."  
  
"Fine then. Where are we headed? I'm following your lead."  
  
"To the place where my brother was hospitalized," Gohan answered with a short glance. His eyes had a pinkish tint, possibly a side-effect of the plasma therapy. Piccolo abruptly flew in front of him, frowning.  
  
"Whatever for? I may not understand everything about your brother, but this is intensely personal. Having me there --"  
  
"That's exactly why I need you with me," Gohan replied, running his hand through his hair. Piccolo then realized his friend was onto something, which wasn't good. "The situation has been stressful for all of us, but mom said Goten seemed more concerned about another resident there than himself. On top of that, when we talked earlier, he was too quick to blow me off about the plasma."  
  
"I still don't understand."  
  
"My brother could have done therapy where Trunks is now. Bulma had a virtual program ready, using a similar setup. With Trunks being so sick, it just doesn't make sense. He also sounded way too calm. Why wouldn't he want to protect his health?"   
  
Piccolo's thoughts dwelled on what he and others discussed. The person who hurt Trunks may have been someone close and trusted. What better way to access a vulnerable person than during their hospitalization? Whether Goten figured out the culprit or not, he was in grave danger.  
  
"Set off your radar, Gohan. Son and Vegeta need to join us as soon as possible. Your brother's safety may be immediately at risk. The place may also need to be evacuated."  
  
Gohan inhaled. "Damn it! How in the hell are we going to do that?"  
  
"I have knockout gas with me."  
  
Gohan did a double-take, appearing both shocked and slightly amused. "You have _what_?"  
  
"Don't worry," Piccolo shrugged. "It won't affect you or the other two. Bulma gave it to me. Said I should carry it at all times to get others out of the way in case we had to fight."  
  
"That woman thinks of everything, but I hope we won't have to do any of that. I mean, there are other sick people there with conditions like my brother's, though the place never houses too many patients at one time. I don't want anyone to be scared."  
  
Ever the pragmatist, Piccolo knew he had to redirect the conversation. He cared profoundly for Gohan but knew from experience that his lifelong student's hyper-empathetic personality made him more vulnerable to being harmed. Goku could crush severe opponents when pushed against the wall, with no other alternatives. Given Trunks' life was involved, Piccolo didn't doubt that Vegeta would merely… crush.  
  
"We always figure out a way," he replied, "and will have to split up. Your father and Vegeta will probably get there before us, I would think, since they both use instant transmission."  
  
"No, they won't. They will probably show up separately and give us some time to position ourselves."  
  
"Yes, I suppose that is the best plan. I will scout. Let me read your mind. I need to see the entire dimensions of the place."  
  


* * *

Sadie appeared indifferent at first, but she wasn't. The sting of Goten's flaming verbal epithet was well-deserved and, to a certain degree, hurt more than she had anticipated. Nevertheless, she and the Tuffle fellow traveler inhabiting her body were merged and fully inseparable, they both believed, and thus was their mission. Backtracking on fulfilling the deed they committed was never going to happen.  
  
Goten's reaction confirmed that the cycle was either completed or would be soon. He would never understand in this state of mind, she knew, but instinct and mental programming suggested the target -- Vegeta -- did and felt wholly responsible for the ruins. Perhaps the Saiyan prince would never recover from these self-inflicted wounds and die brokenhearted, unable to be consoled by those who still managed to care for him. The shelter of a total mental breakdown was too good for him. The deaths of his two greatest prides were the greatest of equalizers.   
  
Sadie's tousled silvery hair curved behind her neck as symmetrical red stripes extended from the temporal lines on her skull, stopping above her brow line. The display of her Tuffleization was gripping, dramatic and unequivocally bone-chilling.  
  
"So you figured it out before everyone else -- those who've underestimated just how intellectually sharp you really are -- and have always been," she said with melancholy. "Are you ready to kill me now?"  
  
Goten definitely sensed the sadness in her voice, but this disturbing visual was also a signifier: Being near death hadn't made her any less dangerous. Animals can be at their most vicious when in pain or faced with no way out of an imminent threat. In the same breath, Sadie seemed to profess caring for him wrapped in a veneer of "I know what's best for you" condescension. Goten didn't believe himself to be in a weaker position. If anything, he felt hyper-alert about potential manipulation.  
  
"It sounds like that's what you want," he replied, showing no further emotion. "Maybe I'll do just enough to torture you, but not enough for you to die until I see fit."  
  
Sadie's dry smile was her reply that she didn't believe him. "Your kindness to me is separate from the duty that had to be fulfilled, Goten. I need you to understand that. Soldiers -- good ones -- never take matters of life and death lightly, and I am nothing but a solider. So are you. We both still care for each other. You don't want to kill me. You may be a Saiyan, but I've known for some time that you're not like the rest of them, including the man you married. Consider yourself _lucky._ "  
  
Goten, like his brother and father before him, understood when it was in their best interest to keep the enemy talking, especially the overconfident ones. Was this a life form possessing Sadie against her will, or had she always been this way? Was she a true psychopath who felt no remorse about anything? He also needed to know what "for some time" meant. He contemplated the best way to kill her. Maybe a ki blast between the eyes or a dose of poison from a metal spike embedded in his cane. But what good would that do if her death meant Trunks couldn't be helped? She had to be examined.  
  
"Have you been faking sickness all along?"  
  
"No, Goten. Depression has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. It's never gone away. But what you see in me -- us -- has kept me alive, comforted me. I am thankful, because I would be dead otherwise. We are meant to be together. I am a Tuffle now, and there is nothing else I'd rather be. We recognized the good in you. I was a scientist, like your mother-in-law Bulma. I even worked at Capsule Corporation for a time. I have watched you since you were a boy -- you and the grandson of the so-called _king_ of those barbarians who murdered my people."   
  
Goten's rigid silence was a giveaway of his growing concern. Recognizing this, Sadie matched his quiet with a long pause of her own. He would break eventually, she thought. She was closer to the next part of her plan, which had to happen soon.  
  
"I've had enough of your mind games."  
  
"Hm." Sadie took a heavy breath, moving her body up against the bed's headboard. "I see you don't believe me. We _were there_ when Vegeta knocked you and Trunks unconscious during his fight with that fat pink creature. We watched Vegeta embrace Trunks for what he thought would be the last time. We watched your father-in-law's body go up in flames as he attempted suicide -- and we were _happy_. Care for me to tell you what happened before all of that went down?"  
  
Goten was truly stunned -- especially knowing that Goku, using the Dragon Balls, was instrumental in ensuring that no earthlings terrorized during Majin Buu's rampage would remember anything.  
  
"That's enough -- and I know enough. You're smart. If you worked at Capsule Corporation, then I wouldn't be surprised if you found some way to break into a system that kept a record of this. "  
  
Sadie glowered as her words spat like glass shards. "Oh, my darling, you absolutely _don't_ know enough, and you know the vaunted Doctor Brief wouldn't be so sloppy with that kind of information. What a pity. So much betrayal and too many secrets in that family you had the _misfortune_ of marrying into. But you see, if we had wanted to kill you, it would have been accomplished long ago. Good Saiyans existed, but not enough to influence others like them. Just as there is hate in Tuffles for our tormentors, there is also mercy. We have that knowledge. You are decent."  
  
"Then why did you wait so long to hurt Trunks? You _knew_ he was good."  
  
"He comes from a blood line of vicious, unstable individuals!" Sadie hissed. Why couldn't he understand? "People like them are threats to everyone, with enough charisma to draw others to commit evil. Vegeta knows this. He isn't stable and never will be. Trunks would have eventually succumbed to the same sickness the mad prince carries in him. They long for dominance -- and trust me, one day they will seek it out -- and then what will you have?!"  
  
Goten fingers twitched. It would be the cane for her. The poison would paralyze her first and then strangle her red blood cells until her breathing stopped. He didn't care to contemplate what Trunks might think about the murder he was about to commit. It had to be done.  
  
"So you waited this long to break Vegeta's spirit when the time was right."  
  
Sadie's working hand grasped her bedsheet as she coughed. The pain in her head and chest were becoming unbearable. Delirium would return soon. The creature sustaining her couldn't do much more. "That question has already been answered. There is another who is complicit. She may be no Saiyan, but she is a betrayer just like her husband. She has played him for a fool and debased her lineage. She is a…a…"  
  
Sadie's eyes turned grey as she gagged, hacked, and coughed. Goten stood and dispassionately watched as she gasped for breath. He had no intention of calling for help. The tormented thing that was both Sadie and the Tuffle wanted to die, he believe. This was a confession. Listening to it insult Bulma was enough for him. Yet the unanswered questions were endless, especially how Sadie was able to track them for so long, let alone how she infected Trunks. Her soon-to-be dead body had to be preserved for examination. Touching her, though, was the immediate concern. His hand extended, drawing the cane into his palm.  
  
At that moment, Sadie's body sat up straight. The lines disappeared from her head, as well as the stark-white hair color, which turned black. An aquiline substance the color of steel shot from her mouth with a sharp howl and a bright flash, partially blinding Goten long enough to force its way down his throat. He grabbed at his neck, convulsing and choking, while the shell of the dead woman slumped backward. His fingers scraped the floor as dark stripes traced along the bones beneath and around his eyes.  
  
Goku was the first to enter, dismayed to see his son writhing like a possessed man. "Oh, no."   
  
A broad smile swept over Goten's contorted face as he laughed. "I can hear you, papa," he panted. His boyhood voice seemed to be mixed with a strident, sinister undertone. _"_ I'm all right. We're all going to be safe. Trunks too. I understand everything now."

Vegeta appeared shortly thereafter, glancing first at the dead woman and then at his son-in-law. His face didn't show shock or much of anything else. The situation was dire and the primal urge to fight welled. How it would happen without badly harming others or Goten -- or possibly becoming infected with god knows what -- was something he couldn't underestimate.  
  
Goten stood up perfectly, still grinning like a madman. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the little prince! Seems like we have dilemma on our hands, now don't we?"  
  
Vegeta adjusted his gloves, speaking in a calm, fatherly tone. "I know you're in there, Goten. You can fight this. Do it for Trunks, who loves you, and your parents and brother. It may feel good to you now, the power that this thing is manipulating your mind with, but -- "  
  
"Silence, you arrogant fool!" the parasite bellowed, stripping away the last remnants of Goten's voice. "I notice you said _nothing_ about yourself, Vegeta, which is telling. We see everything about you -- and unlike either you or his father really believe, Goten isn't weak! He solved the puzzle about our existence before any of you did, including _your brilliant wife!_ "  
  
"There is no _we_ ," Goku snarled as Vegeta held his shoulders. "You may be talking, whatever the hell you are, but you don't completely control my son yet. I can feel it. What do you want?"  
  
The possessed man directed a dirty look at Vegeta as the red lines flowed down both sides of his face and hair turned white. Goku's stomach turned at the sight.  
  
"Goku, your son was very angry when he arrived, but he is feeling safer now. I want him to feel safe. He is kind, and it's clear you are too. My name is Aminy, and I am not the enemy. _The man who stands beside you is._ He lives a perfect life he doesn’t deserve. His father and thuggish army never gave my people, the Tuffles, the chance to enjoy our prosperity. I've watched his family for years -- and yours. The woman who lays dead sheltered me. I loved her -- tried to protect her through her illness when others discarded her. She was smart and kind, and loved me."  
  
"Oh, stop this rubbish!" an enraged Vegeta snapped. "You possessed a _sick woman's body_ to stalk our families! That is nowhere _near_ benevolent. You're preying on the vulnerable, including my son-in-law! Kakarot is just as Saiyan as I am, _Tuffle_. Neither of us have quarrels with you, but you sure are giving us one hell of a reason to!"  
  
"Rant all you want, little prince, but we know you have little bargaining leverage. Your dear son may be dead in a matter of days -- maybe even today -- and you have no way of helping without going _through me_. Goten has finally found a refuge _in me_ , and your wife ---"  
  
Vegeta's nostrils flared as bulging veins appeared over his temples. "What _about_ my wife?" Death radiated from his eyes, despite his knowledge that Aminy was goading him.  
  
"You aren't the only one with secrets, Vegeta. Too bad Bulma didn't recognize my Sadie when she worked at Capsule Corporation."

Goku's muscles tightened, almost ripping the seams of his clothing. "Goten is _my son_ , you monster, not some chip in a game. How is what you're doing showing care?"  
  
"There is no game," Aminy replied. "As I said, he's safe and finally getting the support he needs. I only have one request."  
  
"I'll be damned before I haggle with you!"   
  
"I'm not interested in a deal with you," Aminy said. "I think Vegeta knows where I'm going with this, don’t you?"  
  
Goku looked at Vegeta. "No." His furious eyes shot back to Animy. "No, you bastard!"  
  
Aminy rubbed his hands together eagerly. "So what will it be, Vegeta? Possession by a Tuffle creation and banishment from this planet, or dying from an incapacitating sickness?"  
  
"Don't answer that!" Goku shouted.  
  
" _Do not_ speak for me Kakarot," Vegeta said with an almost otherworldly composure. He turned toward Aminy, wondering about the parasite's capabilities. It didn't seem to be using Goten's ki sense to identify other threats. "So if I give up my life or sanity -- or both -- as you desire, would you reconsider helping my son too? He is nothing like me."  
  
"That is an untruth if I ever heard one," Aminy sneered with acidic contempt. "However, I might be convinced if you kneel before me and curse your own father. He's responsible for your fate. Oh, and please do share whether you loved or hated the esteemed King Vegeta. I have a feeling it was the latter."  
  
Goku's teeth gritted. In spite of everything he and Vegeta had been through together, including as former enemies, even he couldn't accept this mockery. The prince, though, nodded compliantly.  
  
"No, Vegeta --"  
  
Vegeta slowly lowered to one knee with his eyes downcast, but his lean smile was defiant and proud. "It's all right, my friend. We've been through this before. I don't want to see any more of our children die needlessly or be in pain because of me."  
  
"How touching," Aminy snorted. "I must say, I thought you would put up more of a fight. Oh well. Now then, tell me about _your father_."  
  
Vegeta's hands laid across his bent knee. "I... hated... him."  
  


* * *

**Comments on the position Vegeta and Goku are in now -- or other elements in the chapter -- are invited. 🙂**


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